About to Blink

AN: Here's a slightly longer chapter, and Natasha is back!

Two days after she'd spoken with Tony, Natasha Romanoff walked into Avengers Tower. She headed straight for the Common Room, expecting to find at least someone there. She entered to see Tony sat on the sofa with holograms of all the blueprints of the Tower around him.

"Damn it, Jarvis, he's spent the last three days barely conscious," said Tony.

"Yes, sir, but his temperature is now within acceptable parameters and he specifically asked me not to give away his location," said Jarvis. "As you know, my privacy protocols are quite strict."

Tony let out an exasperated noise somewhere between a groan and a scream.

"Trouble?" asked Natasha.

Tony whirled around to see her, surprised by her arrival and bashed his knee on the coffee table. "Damn it! Good, you're back. Maybe you can find him."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. There could only be one person that Tony would lose in his own tower. "You lost Hawkeye."

"I just turned my back for a minute. I needed coffee."

"He's feeling better?" asked Natasha.

"His fever went down this morning. Bruce said something about a saddleback fever, meaning he gets a reprieve in the middle before it comes back…" Tony went back to staring at the blueprints. "Anyway, he was weak, but awake and not trying to tell me that I needed saving from non-existent terrorists in a desert somewhere, which has been kind of a common occurrence the last couple of days …"

"So, you thought you could safely leave him on his own for a few minutes to go to the kitchen," said Natasha. "Perhaps I should have made it clearer when we spoke that this is Clint Barton, Hawkeye, a member of the Avengers, that you are dealing with."

"No one knows better than me what a Houdini your partner is, but he was sick. Sane people stay in bed until they feel better!" shouted Tony, in a frustrated manner.

"You haven't told Bruce or Steve yet that he's missing, have you?" asked Natasha.

"No. No, I have not, and I'm still really hoping to avoid that. Help? Please?"

Natasha couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Tony Stark was actually using puppy dog eyes to try to get her to help him.

She gave a theatrical sigh. "You checked the roof?"

"Yes, even though the roof access from his apartment is locked down," said Tony. "I've checked the armoury, the gym, the range, the pool and the labs. I know he didn't leave the building because Jarvis would have told me, even with the privacy protocols in place."

"And the other outside spaces? The veranda and landing pads? He likes high and outside."

Tony looked towards the large window that looked out onto the helipad. "I think we'd see him if he was on the helipad. Come on, we'll check the veranda and the Iron Man landing pad."

Natasha and Tony took the stairs up the two flights to get to the lounge of the penthouse. Tony went to the window and then opened the door that led onto the veranda. New York in January wasn't exactly warm and the sky was a fairly menacing grey today. Natasha was certain that Clint was outside somewhere, and that he'd be sitting there happily staring out at the city.

They checked the veranda and found no sign of Clint. Although there were corners of the balcony structure that were hard to see from inside in the lounge, it was an open area without many places to hide a grown man. They moved on to the Iron Man landing platform which was somewhat vertiginous for anyone not wearing a suit of flying armour, but the height wouldn't have bothered Clint.

Tony opened the doors and stepped outside. "You have got to be fucking kidding me, Legolas."

Natasha also stepped through the doors and could see what Tony did now. Clint had sat himself on the sweeping curve that was at the point where the platform met the main building. There was a sheer drop on his right, and he was leaning back against the curve like he was in a hammock at the beach rather than lying on the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York. It also had the advantage that it was hard to be seen from any of the windows in the penthouse. He wasn't exactly hiding, but he'd definitely picked a hard to find spot.

Natasha noted how pale her partner was and the red, measles like rash that covered his skin. His eyes were bloodshot and his movements slow. He was wrapped in a blanket over his usual workout clothes, which Natasha suspected was all he'd been able to grab as he'd left his apartment.

"Can't I get a moment alone anywhere?" said Clint, his tones rough. He turned slightly to see Tony, but he definitely hadn't seen Natasha yet.

"Yeah, you're sick. No alone time until we're sure you're not getting the severe version of what you've got. Come down here before Bruce discovers you're not in your room and hulks out," said Tony.

"It's a little grey for sunbathing," said Natasha, taking a step forwards so that Clint could see her too.

"'Tasha," he said, meeting her eyes. She knew that he was pleased to see her. "You finished your mission?"

"I may have done a rush job so that I could come back here and make sure Stark wasn't screwing up looking after Pepper," said Natasha. Everyone present knew the words were a lie, and not the real reason why she was standing in the Tower at this moment, but no one was going to spoil it and tell her otherwise. Clint needed his pride.

"Pepper's doing fine," said Tony, with a little annoyance. "I, on the other hand, am being driven mad by one Clint Barton, who is probably the worst patient in the history of medicine. Which says something, because I'd count myself as the second worst and I very rarely put myself second to anyone."

"Come on, let's get you inside before Tony pops a blood vessel," said Natasha. "It's too cold for you to be out here when you're recovering from Dengue Fever."

Natasha stepped over so that she was in position for Clint to lean on her if he needed it. He slowly uncurled himself from his perch and moved down so that he could get his legs over the edge of the lip and onto the walkway. He was clearly weak, but determined to walk on his own, so she let him.

"More in the eye of the storm than recovering," said Clint. Natasha nodded, remembering Tony's words about Dengue being a "saddleback" fever.

"I know, Common Room," said Tony. "We'll set him up down there and he can entertain himself with movies, games and the inane chatter of his team mates."

Clint wobbled on his feet and Natasha wrapped an arm around her partner. "Sounds good," murmured Clint, clearly tired.

"Go ahead and get some blankets and pillows," said Natasha. "I'll get him down there."

Tony nodded and headed off, leaving the two assassins to make their way rather more slowly to the elevator and down to the Common Room.

"Feeling claustrophobic?" asked Natasha.

"I needed the sky above me and a clear view to the horizon," replied Clint, as they walked.

"You do realise that Tony is currently in a bad phase of PTSD and that means he's worried about everyone who he thinks of as his to protect," said Natasha.

Clint stopped for a moment. "Shit. Did I just screw up by going off the grid and telling Jarvis to not give away my position?"

"You're ill. I think you're forgiven," said Natasha. "But please don't do it again, because you'll have me to answer to if you do. And I know that this time you weren't even trying to hide."

"All he had to do was walk outside," muttered Clint.

"Tony didn't know that," said Natasha. "You should have seen him, with his plans all laid out…"

"I never meant for him to freak out," said Clint. "I just needed a moment to myself. I hate being inside too long, and I know we're up pretty high here, but it isn't like being outside."

"I understand," said Natasha, as they got to the elevator. "But you knew he was watching you to make sure your fever wasn't spiking again and you did it anyway. Where's your head?"

"Apparently not here," said Clint. "Honestly, I don't know. This building has more than enough PTSD to keep an entire army of shrinks employed for years." Clint stopped walking for a moment, and Natasha had to pull him forwards to enter the elevator. "Maybe I'm not as back from Loki as I thought, Nat."

"You're back enough. But it's like I said before; you can't shrug off having your mind possessed by a god. It's going to take time. I know that you wanted to be back in the field asap, and I know that you fooled the shrinks into thinking that you're over it and ready for missions. But you're not over Loki, Clint. You're just getting better at covering." She pressed the button for the Common Room floor.

"I hate you," said Clint.

"I know," said Natasha, with a teasing smile. "It's because I know you too well, and I'm more awesome than you are."

"When you can shoot my bow and hit the targets that I do, then you'll be more awesome than me."

"We'll see. But you're still sick, and trying to pretend you're not, won't help," pointed out Natasha.

"I've had a lifetime of dodging bullets. You know what it's like. You never let the enemy suspect that you're not one hundred percent, and then it becomes not letting anyone see..."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that they're not after you," said Natasha, as they reached the Common Room floor.

"Especially if you're playing Call of Duty with Tony Stark," replied Clint. The elevator doors opened to the Common Room floor and Tony was waiting for them.

"Fantastic, you actually made it. I was kind of worried that we'd need to call for backup," said Tony, who was sat at his laptop. "And I've just finished redecorating after the last time the Hulk decided to make an appearance, so I'm really happy not to have to do that again because Bruce lost it with my inability to keep you safe."

"He was safe," said Natasha.

"I knew what I was doing," said Clint. "All my fault, if Bruce asks. Sorry, Tony, I shouldn't have disappeared like that."

"Please, never apologise to me again, Legolas, it's too weird," said Tony, concentrating on his screen. "But apology accepted. Although I'm kind of sensitive about knowing where people are at the moment, so I may have over reacted a touch."

"I'll try to remember that," said Clint, as he sank down on the sofa. "Was I this bad?"

"Worse," said Natasha.

"Welcome to the PTSD brotherhood," said Clint.

"And sisterhood," said Pepper, walking in carrying a pile of blankets with a pillow on top. "Marco."

"Polo," replied Tony, without missing a beat. "Sorry, this is a thing now."

"Awesome," replied Clint, in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't. "Hey, Pepper. Wanna re-match at Monopoly? Nat's back."

Pepper shook her head as she handed the blankets to Clint and put the pillow on the sofa behind him. "Oh no, I heard about your last game with Natasha. Can I get you a hot drink? You look cold."

"Coffee, double strength," said Tony, before Clint could reply.

"Do I look like your personal assistant?" asked Pepper.

"Actually…" began Tony, but a look from Pepper silenced him.

"You're also not the one who's recovering from Dengue Fever," said Pepper. "Mr Stark, your presence is required in the kitchen."

Tony sighed theatrically, and put his laptop to one side. "Coffee it is then. Except Clint. You get hot chocolate until Bruce says otherwise."

Clint groaned. "But I love coffee."

Pepper disappeared into the kitchen and Tony grudgingly followed, with a look back at his two friends. Clint smirked.

"He really does love her," said Natasha, slightly incredulously.

"You sound surprised," said Clint, as he got comfortable on the sofa.

"I don't think I'd realised until now," said Natasha.

"Because love is for children?" asked Clint, pulling a blanket across his body.

Natasha fixed him with a look. He wasn't supposed to know that.

"I watched the videos. I wanted to know what lies he told you. Actually, I don't think he told you a single one," said Clint.

This interested her a bit, but she didn't want to pursue that conversation right now.

"What I believe doesn't matter, but perhaps it makes me cynical on occasion," said Natasha.

Clint was already getting ready to settle into sleep. He would only do that in the open if people he trusted were nearby, and for a few seconds Natasha allowed herself the luxury of watching him close his eyes. Lately this weird life that she had threw up occasional quiet moments of happiness and she was beginning to learn to just let them be. She was beginning to accept that she might be attached to these people around her and that, yes, she too had begun to trust them.

Clint knew the lie of the land. He had contracted a virus that killed people very occasionally, (in extremely rare circumstances; it was pretty much a one per cent chance and he'd have needed to be infected before for even that much risk), and therefore all the Avengers (plus Pepper) were in the mood to treat him like glass, because Tony and Pepper had cases of PTSD that rivalled his own post-Loki, Natasha always regarded him as hers to protect because they owed each other so many times over, Steve was basically an overgrown boy scout, and Bruce had a lot of guilt to work though. Luckily Thor was still in Asgard or else he'd have probably decided to get in on the act too. Basically, he was now the target of a lot of fussing and what he regarded as overprotective nonsense.

It was all driving him absolutely crazy, and had been doing so since he'd woken up feeling a little better that morning.

There had been a small victory when he'd been allowed to move to the sofa in the Common Room, but that had been when his fever had ebbed. It had been nice to get out of his apartment and Natasha's return to the Tower had been extremely welcome. He'd enjoyed playing computer games with Tony before dozing on the sofa again, when his weakened body refused to keep his eyes open any longer.

He probably only had a few more hours before the fever returned and, of course, the Avengers had been called out. At the moment the team was Iron Man, Captain America, The Black Widow and the Hulk, if Bruce got angry enough. With Thor still in Asgard, they were already down part of their air support and strike ability. Tony could handle it on his own as long as the threat wasn't sufficiently large. Natasha would handle the hand to hand, but was better put to use on intelligence gathering. Steve would be the backbone of the team, the rock that they all turned to in times of trouble and looked to for tactical brilliance. Bruce would hulk out when required and smash whatever was needed, whilst being the quiet voice of reason the rest of the time that everyone expected to soothe troubled waters.

Meanwhile Clint was lying on the sofa, failing to do anything. He was supposed to be the eyes for the team, the person who could see the entire picture and feed information out. He was supposed to be the sniper that hit everything that he aimed at, choosing the high value targets and taking them down, thus making his team's battles easier. He was not supposed to be sick and useless whilst they risked their lives. The others had taken pity on him and given him a com line, and Jarvis was relaying video feeds from the battle. Pepper had gone back to her office so that she didn't accidentally distract him at a critical moment, but made him more hot chocolate before she left.

"Iron Man, you've got one trying to sneak up on your left," he said, checking the camera which currently had Tony in its view.

A repulsor blast slammed into the offending member of the Serpent Society - Anaconda. The problem was that it only knocked her back rather than taking them down. A second blast put the blonde haired, snake-like villain on the ground. They appeared to have decided to attempt an attack on the Fridge, a SHIELD high security prison where Viper was currently being held.

"Damn it, these cameras don't give me enough coverage," said Clint.

Iron Man had turned his attention back to Rock Python, who was a somewhat tougher opponent since his skin was impervious to bullets. The lame light blue spandex outfit made it a bit hard to take him seriously however. Tony had the advantage of having armour, although was having to dodge "snake egg" bombs every so often.

"You're doing fine, Hawkeye," said Steve.

"I should be there with you."

"If you had the strength to draw your bow, then I might agree with you," replied Steve.

Clint groaned at the reminder.

"I'd have let him come if he had the strength to stand for more than five minutes," added Natasha.

Clint rolled his eyes, but luckily Natasha couldn't see that. "Not helping, Nat."

He pulled up the camera feed that showed Natasha firing her pistols at Bushmaster. This member of the Serpent Society was half snake and had a long green tail, as well as two wickedly sharp blade protruding from his fists. She dodged out of the way of a swipe of his claws and jumped onto his tail. She straddled it and shocked him with her Widow's Bite, leaving the snake-man twitching.

"Bushmaster is down," said Natasha.

"Anaconda's not getting up," said Tony. "But Rock Python's being a bit stubborn. Watch out for his bombs – they're full of some kind of sticky ribbons. I got some on my left arm and now it won't come off."

"Hold on Iron Man, I'll be with you as soon as I can," said Steve.

"Hulk's dealing with Rattler," said Clint.

He had a good view of the side of the building where Hulk was in the process of pulling off the tail of Rattler. Unfortunately Rattler wasn't quite done for yet. His bionic tail had a device inside it that could produce vibrations created powerful shockwaves and mini earthquakes. Hulk was knocked off his feet and dropped Rattler in the process. Hulk jumped to his feet and clapped his hands together knocking down Rattler in his own shockwave.

"Nice move from the big green guy there," said Clint.

He turned his attention to Captain America, who was slugging it out with Cottonmouth. It wasn't much of a contest. Cap had this one in the bag without even breaking a sweat. Cottonmouth's main ability was using his inhumanly strong jaws to attack and Steve was staying well clear of those. A carefully timed swipe from his shield put Cottonmouth on the ground and then Steve turned back towards Rock Python.

"Steve!" shouted Clint, as Cottonmouth suddenly surged up from the ground. He didn't have time to shout anything else, and Clint grabbed for a non-existent arrow to put to a non-existent bow as Cottonmouth sank his jaws into Steve's left shoulder. He heard the exclamation of pain from his team-mate as the fangs sank in. The next closest Avenger was the Black Widow. "Natasha, Steve's been bitten by Cottonmouth."

"Coming," replied the Black Widow, her guns out and ready, her voice calm.

She took a flying kick into Cottonmouth, dislodging him from Steve's shoulder, which was now bleeding badly. Steve was on his side on the ground, although pushing himself up pretty quickly. Copperhead took a step sideways away from both Captain America and the Black Widow, but he couldn't dodge bullets. The Black Widow got him once in the arm and a second time in the leg. This time he wouldn't be getting up again.

Steve was now on his feet and heading towards where Iron Man was still having trouble with Rock Python. An egg bomb came sailing through the air in his direction but he easily sidestepped it and hefted his shield with his right arm. He pulled back and sent the shield flying into Rock Python's side, just as he'd picked up another of his bombs. The impact caused him to drop the bomb and deploy the sticky ribbons across his own legs and feet. The snake-villain found himself stuck to the ground and was suddenly an easy target for Iron Man's repulsors. After that, the battle was over quickly.

Clint breathed a sigh of relief, but he couldn't help feeling sure that if he'd been there, Cap wouldn't now be injured. Clint would have put an arrow in Cottonmouth before he'd closed the gap to his prey.

"Well, that was fun," said Iron Man. "Or not. Are you bleeding, Cap?"

Clearly Iron Man had been too busy with Rock Python to monitor what had happened with Steve. That's why they needed Hawkeye. He was usually the only one who had the full overview of the battle.

"Just a scratch," said Steve. "When Bruce is back, I'll get him to take a look at it."

"No you won't," said Natasha. "I'll get the first aid kit from the Quinjet and look at it now before you bleed out." She headed back to where they'd parked the Quinjet.

Steve's shoulder was literally covered in blood and Clint wasn't at all happy with the way the wound looked.

"Give me a scan of the Captain's wound, Jarvis," said Tony, landing beside Steve.

"Sir, you still haven't found time to install the biosensors in this suit," said Jarvis.

"Damn it," said Tony. "Looking a bit pale there, Stevie."

"Even I get some effects from losing this much blood," said Steve.

"Come on Stars and Stripes, back to the Quinjet for you until we can persuade the Hulk to leave his new toy alone," said Tony. "You might as well sign off, Clint. You've done all you can from there and Bruce will be annoyed if we let you stay up past your bedtime."

"Screw you, Tony," replied Clint. "It's early evening."

"I know, but I'd have to be deaf not to hear you yawning, so get off the coms and take a nap. We'll be back in a couple of hours after we've taken care of the clean-up and Natasha's signed the SHIELD paperwork in triplicate," said Tony.

"Don't think you're getting away without doing your fair share, Tony. How's your temperature looking, Clint?" asked Natasha.

"It's a little high, but not very," replied Clint. "Don't worry, I'm just lying on the sofa chatting to some friends. Not doing anything at all that would stress me."

"Ha ha," replied Natasha. "Take the pain pills if you need them, and then do what Tony says and take a nap."

Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair. Tony was right, he was tired. "Okay, Hawkeye signing off. See you when you get home."

He shut down the laptop that he'd been using and placed it on the table beside the sofa. He eyed the bottle of painkillers and considered whether he needed to take some now or if he'd be better waiting until later. He could feel the beginning of a new headache behind his eyes, so he decided that if he wanted to sleep then he needed to take the pills now. He downed a couple with some water and settled himself down on the sofa to nap. It didn't take him long to fall asleep, because even though he hated admitting it to anyone, the disease was kicking his ass and he was worn out. He needed all the sleep he could get at the moment whilst he fought it off.

He didn't know how long he slept for, but he was awoken by a noise. At first he assumed that it was the team returning from dealing with the attempted prison break, but there didn't appear to be anyone in the Common Room with him.

"Guys?" he asked the empty room. There was no reply and he hadn't really expected one.

The red display on the table beside the sofa told him that his temperature was rising again. That explained why he was feeling worse now than when he'd fallen asleep. The clock told him that he'd been asleep for just under an hour and a half, so the other Avengers were due back in a little while.

"Jarvis, is there anyone on the Avengers floors apart from me?"

"No, sir."

Clint blinked, there was something in his peripheral vision. He turned in time to see a black smoke descend from the nearest air vent. He was on his feet in seconds, which he immediately regretted when his body told him pointedly that it was still suffering from a fever. His legs almost buckled and it was only sheer force of will that kept him moving towards his nearest weapon cache. He was pretty glad now that he hadn't told Steve to remove the ones in the Common Room.

He got to the sideboard and reached behind it to find nothing. Where his backup bow should have been was a piece of paper. He plucked the piece of paper from where it was stuck to the sideboard to see it was a note. In handwriting that he knew all too well was written: 'See me to get your bow back. NR.' There was a small stylised hourglass beside the initials.

"Damn it, 'Tasha," muttered Clint. He pushed sweat out of his eyes with a swipe of his hand. "Damn fever." He was finding it hard to focus properly, and his hands trembled with feverish shivers.

The smoke was coalescing into a shape. It now resembled a man with glowing red eyes. This was very bad. He needed back-up.

"Jarvis, put a call through to Iron Man. There's something in the Tower," said Clint.

"I am attempting to relay your message, Agent Barton, but communications appear to be down. I also still don't detect anyone else on the Avengers floors," said Jarvis.

"You can't see that?" asked Clint, looking directly at the now man-shaped smoky entity that was walking towards him, across the room. Clint was backing up towards the exit to the stairs, but keeping his eyes on the thing in front of him.

"No, sir," replied Jarvis.

The smoke man suddenly shot towards him and Clint dodged, falling through the doors into the stairwell. He needed weapons and there was one place where he was guaranteed to find them: Tony's lab. He moved as quickly as his ailing body would let him, jumping down the stairs two at a time and got down most of the first flight of stairs before the smoke caught up with him. The entity slammed into Clint and the two of them rolled down the last three steps to the lab floor.

Clint groaned. The smoke was in human form again and pinning him down to the ground. "You're pretty solid for a smoke monster," he said aiming a punch at the coalescing head of his foe.

"I'm not a monster!" shouted out the thing, in a voice that sounded like it was made of nails, gravel and razor blades. "My name is Smoke!"

Clint's punch connected for a second before disappearing in a haze of black smoke. Suddenly he was free and he rolled out of the entity's grip. He pushed himself to his feet, scrambling forwards half on his hands and knees to get through the doors to the floor.

"Jarvis, lock down the lab floor!" he shouted.

"Yes, sir," replied the AI.

Clint pushed himself up using the wall as support. He was bruised from his tumble down the stairs and his body was protesting the movement. Natasha was probably going to kill him when she found out what he'd been up to instead of resting, assuming that Smokey didn't get him first. He only had to get down the corridor to the lab and then he could get to the latest experimental bow that Tony had been working on and the arrows that went with it.

Clint looked back towards the doors from the stairs and could see the beginnings of black smoke seeping under the door. Of course the door wouldn't stop this creature, but Clint had hoped that it might be enough to slow it down a little. It didn't seem to have worked particularly well. He willed his aching body to go the few steps it needed to get to Tony's lab. He hit the button for the door and collapsed onto the floor of the lab.

"Jarvis, lock down Stark's lab! Full seals!"

"Yes, sir," replied Jarvis.

Clint would have loved to just stay lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, but he needed to persuade himself to get moving again. The aches in his limbs were building and he knew his fever was rising again.

"Why can't I have a normal life and get to lie in bed when I'm ill?" he muttered to himself as he rolled onto his front. "Oh yeah, because Avengers don't get to do that kind of thing." He got himself onto all fours and then used a lab bench to get himself upright again. He began searching the lab for the new bow.

"Any idea where Tony keeps his latest bow designs, Jarvis?" asked Clint, as he lent against a bench for support. He was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. He wasn't sure how he was staying on his feet, and was pretty sure he didn't have long before the fever got the best of him again.

There was the sound of something slamming into the door. Through the toughened glass, Clint could see that the black fog appeared to have thickened. It was throwing itself at the door.

"Try the cabinet to your left, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

Clint opened the metal cabinet and found Tony's latest version of his bow resting on its stand.

"Thank you, Jarvis," said Clint, with feeling.

"You will find arrows in the drawer at the base of the cabinet," added the AI.

Clint gave him quick smile at the camera for anticipating his wishes and collected up several arrows.

"Any luck getting through to Iron Man?"

"No, Agent Barton. I should alert you to the fact that your temperature is now 38.9˚C. You should return to bed at the earliest opportunity."

"Not really an option with that thing out there," said Clint.

"I am still unable to detect anything on sensors," said Jarvis.

The door banged again.

"But you can hear that, right?"

"It would appear to be a malfunction with the door's opening mechanism," said Jarvis.

"Like hell it is," replied Clint, with his eyes on the door.

Clint shook his head, nocking an arrow. He felt the weight of the new bow in his hands. Tony was getting pretty good at balancing the weapons he made for Clint. This one looked like it was going to be a joy to use, but it was still a new bow and would take him a couple of shots to get used to. The arrows were tipped with a slightly differently coloured metal and reminded Clint of the Adamantium tips that he'd used to help take down the Red Skull's squid tank a few months ago. If they were the same as those, then he had some serious stopping power in his hands now. It probably wasn't going to work against a cloud of gas though.

"Come on, think Barton. Think." His brain didn't want to think. It wanted him to pass out and lie shivering in a corner, but that would probably result in his death. He couldn't let the other Avengers walk into this with no warning either. He needed a plan. Then it came to him.

"Jarvis, can you reverse the air conditioning in the corridor? To suck out poisonous gasses or something? Tony must have thought of that, right?"

"Yes, Agent Barton, but only in the lab that you are currently in," said Jarvis.

"And you still can't see this thing?" asked Clint.

"Unfortunately not, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

Clint sighed. "Okay, on my mark, open the doors. Close them and put the seals on again when I tell you. As soon as they're closed, start sucking the air out of the room. I'll let you know when you can stop."

"There is a chance that you will be unconscious at that point," said Jarvis. "This system is not supposed to be used without breathing apparatus."

"First time for everything, Jarvis. If I pass out before this thing is gone then I'm probably dead anyway. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

Clint placed himself at the back of the lab with line of sight on the door. He put all his strength into drawing the new bow, but knew he couldn't hold it for long. "Mark."

The door slid open and the black smoke rushed in, straight for Clint's position. He let loose the arrow. "Close the doors! Seals on."

The arrow passed through the smoky form and just made it out into the corridor as the doors closed. The reaction it elicited from the creature was somewhat unexpected. Clint hadn't really dared hope for the arrow being anything more than a distraction. Instead the creature screamed the scream of a wounded banshee. It even seemed to be having trouble coalescing around the area where it had been shot.

Jarvis turned the air flow to reverse and suddenly the creature was being sucked up towards the ceiling. It attempted to transform into its more opaque form but Clint nocked another arrow and sent it flying into the creature's centre. It clearly hurt it and was probably enough to prevent it from reforming easily. A third arrow followed the second, but Clint's arms were like jelly now. He couldn't fire again, he didn't have the strength and the lack of air wasn't helping. He dropped to his knees, still clutching the new bow. The last of Smoke's trailing gasses disappeared into the vents.

"Shut it down," mumbled Clint. A normal person never would have heard him, but Jarvis did and closed the vent seals again, turning the lab back onto its own supply of air.

"Agent Barton, your breathing, pulse and heart beat are suboptimal."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Clint, his voice quiet and thin. He edged his way closer to the wall so that he could lean his back against it. "I'll be fine. No need to call anyone. I just need some sleep and I'll be fine."

His bow was still clutched in his hands with a final arrow nocked, ready to go, but he wouldn't be needing it now. As his grip relaxed, the bow and arrow rolled out of his grasp until they lay beside him on the floor. Clint closed his eyes and passed out.