Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, I just like to play with them in my stories and bang them up a bit LOL

Author's Note: I am over the moon with all the reviews and favourites and alerts this story and Father and Son have gotten.

So a massive thank you to all those people. And my reviewers,

Castielswingman, Rivan Warrioress, NinjaViper, Bookdancer, Dani9513, Sammygirl, HawkEye1234, GalynSolo, Ramonks33.

I have written an extra long chapter as thanks.

Please be aware there is some extra whumpage in this chapter and some swearing.

Hope you enjoy….let me know!

To say Phil was angry would be an understatement, he was positively livid. He'd just got off the phone with Fury who informed him that not only was Clint missing from the base and seemed to have snuck onboard the jet before they took off, but that they seemed to have a traitor working for them, they had sent encrypted emails to a secured account talking about the teen, and agreeing on a price.

Phil was seething, Fury had told him the agent had used one of the jets less than an hour after Phil's team left on their mission and his tracker had shown him landing at the airstrip the other team had just arrived at.

Coulson turned and smashed his fist into the wall next to him. It left a dent in the plaster but didn't go all the way through, he stood rigid, his shoulders shaking in barely contained anger. This just couldn't be happening, he was supposed to protect Clint from this, he promised. Sucking in a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves, he took control of his breathing, he needed to pull himself together. If the agent had been on his way here then Phil would find him.

He needed to.

Pulling the chair out from the small desk, he started typing furiously on the keys, bringing up agent McDade's last known location before he'd somehow managed to hide his tracker signal. Phil was also worried, Fury mentioned Clint's signal seemed to have been distorted only a mile or so from where the jet had landed. Unfortunately there was a large amount of area to cover, Phil just hoped Clint had managed to make it close to the safe house.

Bringing up the exterior camera's he watched back over the last six hours of data, he clicked on the screen when he noticed a figure dressed in black clothes make their way into the house next door, the one Phil knew to be empty. And if the image was of McDade, Phil knew he wouldn't have any knowledge of the new camera's that he had placed around the roof of this safe house.

He watched as the figure made their way back down the street less than a few minutes after entering the house. It was after searching through the next few hours that Phil's heart stopped.

Clint.

The boy had his hood up and hand shoved into his pockets, but Phil knew that walk anywhere. He watched frozen as Clint stopped practically right outside the door to the safe house, started walking forward then stopped again. That's when Phil noticed the dark figure pointing a gun at his boy's head then dragging him backwards into the house. Phil slammed his fist against the keyboard and stood quickly, almost knocking the chair over. He pulled his handgun from its holster and ran out the front door. He didn't even stop to think, just reacted to the fear that was flowing through his veins. If this bastard had hurt his boy he'd make him suffer, very slowly.

He kicked the door in and cleared the first two rooms he came upon, then the kitchen. It was quiet, he brought his gun up at the ready and made his way to the door across from the kitchen, it was the only one with the door closed. He steeled himself and with a forceful kick at the door, watched it burst open, slamming into the wall with a bang. He walked in slowly, the room was empty but he froze when he spotted something in the corner of the small room. He strode over and crouched down next to the dark item and picked it up, it was Clint's hoodie, but he froze when he spotted something underneath.

His blood ran clod at the sight of blood staining the old carpet, and then he noticed the small tracker laying in the middle of the dark stain.

Phil felt his emotions bubbling to the surface and with one hand gripping his son's jacket, the other shoved the gun into his holster, he pulled the soft jacket to his face as he muffled a choked sob.

McDade was a dead man.


Clint sat up groaning and touched the back of his head, it came back wet. Blood. He waited till his vision wasn't so blurry and took in his surroundings. It looked like a cellar, loads of junk scattered around. Standing slowly he leaned back against the wall and cradled his hand against his chest, it hurt like crazy and looked a bit swollen. He sent a silent prayer that Phil would find him soon, he had a good guess at who would want him, he just wasn't sure why.

They'd already got their revenge, hadn't they?

He knew he'd have to wrap the wound on his hand, it was still bleeding a little. The teen knew he wouldn't be able to use anything from down here as it was dirty and would probably make it worse, so he settled for ripping a piece off of his t-shirt and wrapped it as best he could, then tied the knot with the help of his teeth.

Clint searched around the small room for a way out, but there was only one window and he would definitely not fit through it. He sighed and slumped against the wall.

McDade was a dick.

He hoped Phil found him soon, so he could tell him how sorry he was for acting like a brat. All Phil had done since day one was look out for him. The guilt he felt was eating away at him, he really didn't want those to be his last words to the man he was starting to see like a father.

He was pulled from his thought when he heard footsteps above his head, then heard the door to the cellar unlock and footsteps coming down the short flight of stairs. Clint stayed hidden in the far corner but he knew he couldn't escape, he was still feeling the bruises from the last time he tried.

"Come out boy!" A deep voice echoed round the small room. Clint frowned, he didn't recognise that voice. Next thing he knew McDade was in front of him pulling him to his feet, Clint kicked out at the agent knowing the agent would retaliate but he couldn't just sit still and let them take him. It was a survival instinct. McDade grunted in pain as the teens foot connected with his knee, but he managed to stay standing. The other man however wasn't in the mood and grabbed a fist full of Clint's short hair and yanked his head back.

"Don't try that again." He growled and threw Clint to the ground. The boy cried out when Brutus, as he would now be known, stamped down on his injured hand. He couldn't help the scream of pain, McDade grinned and pulled the teen to his feet. "Shoulda seen that coming kid." He scolded.

Clint was pushed up the stairs by the agent, Brutus leading the way into a large open plan living room. Clint froze when he recognised the man standing in the centre of the room.

Swordsman.

The older man smiled wickedly at the teen. "Hello Clint, we have some business to discuss."

Clint frowned. Huh? Swordsman gestured to the couch and Clint found himself being manhandled over to it and pushed roughly onto the seat. McDade and Brutus standing behind him like a couple of sentry's.

The man paced back and forth in front of Clint, the boy could see the anger burning in the man's eyes. For some reason though, he wasn't as scared as he thought he'd be if he came face to face with his so-called mentor again. Phil had seen to that, now he just imagined this guy getting his ass handed to him by the agent. The thought made him smirk.

Unfortunately Swordsman didn't seem to happy with the expression and backhanded the boy roughly, his head snapping to the left. He refused to cry out, instead biting his lip against the throbbing in his cheek. The older man grinned, impressed.

"I see you finally developed a back bone, interesting. I will enjoy beating that out of you."

Clint just glared at him. "I'm surprised you haven't asked where your brother is, Clint."

The teens eye's narrowed. "I don't have a brother." The older man simply shrugged. "No matter, you won't be seeing him again anyway. You caused me quite a bit of trouble involving those agents in my business. We lost a lot of buyers, someone had to take the blame." Clint watched as he pulled a wicked looking dagger from seemingly nowhere and walked towards him.

Clint was ready to surge forward when powerful hands gripped his shoulders, pinning him down. "I didn't involve the agents, they were already on to you."

Swordsman ignored him, he stood grinning over the boy, he would make the boy suffer for ruining his business. No one would deal with him now, not once they realised SHIELD was on his tail. And that was the kids fault, he just had to go get himself taken in by a government agency that seemed to expand across the globe. Now he, the Swordsman was confined to the shadows, hiring people to do his dirty work for him.

Not any more, he sneered. If SHIELD wanted the kid back in one piece, they'd do as he demanded. He stood in front of Clint, the knife aimed at him threateningly. Pointing the tip towards the boy's eye, Clint tried not to flinch back but couldn't help it. His former mentor had lost it, he could see it in his eyes.

Swordsman smirked at the fear he saw, it made him feel powerful.

"Now Clint, I think it only right I take back what I gave you. The skills you have, they could be deadly. And I know you won't join me….so….I'm afraid I can't let someone else use those skills against me." He leaned forward, his breath almost making Clint want to gag. It was vile.

Clint did his best to swallow down the fear and looked the man straight in the eye. "What do you hope to get out of this, huh? SHIELD won't back off….your one of the bad guys. They will keep coming until they either catch you or take you out." The older man growled and grabbed the front of the teens shirt. "They will do as I ask." He grinned cruelly at Clint. "Or you will be the one that pays for it." He stood slowly and all Clint saw before feeling the sting on his cheek was the flash of silver. He noticed blood on the tip of the blade and watched as the man wiped it on the arm of the couch.

Brutus walked round to stand in front of the teen and reached out to grab his injured hand, he held the boy forward and placed his hand down on the table. Swordsman stood next to him holding the blade in his right hand.

"Lets see if you remember this game Clint?" The teen gulped and watched as he tapped the tip of the blade between each of his fingers, slowly at first then building speed until all he could see was a blur of steel. Clint didn't dare try to move, the first time the man did this to him he was twelve, it was to show him how deadly the dagger could be and to appreciate what it could do.

You didn't show fear, Clint had failed that first time and ended up with a nasty gash in his hand.

He didn't fail again.


Phil knew it was best to leave searching the camera's around the city to the experts, the whiz kids at SHIELD were the best at what they did and if they found Clint faster, he gladly defer to them.

When an image flashed up on his screen, Phil clicked on the zoom and when he recognised the man known as Swordsman, Phil saw red.

The agents in the room with him at the time had taken a step back, Phil hadn't realised he had actually growled deep in his throat. They could also see the anger radiate off the experienced agent. Suddenly Phil was barking orders over the phone.

"Check every damn camera in this city and tell me where that son of a bitch is! And I wanted to know this an hour ago!" He slammed down the phone and made his way to the weapons bag, pulling out a few guns, some knives, a grenade and extra ammunition.

Agent Collins stepped forward, looking Phil in the eye and started grabbing a few weapons for himself. Phil gave him a nod in thanks. The other agent grabbed a handful of ammo. They all shared a look and headed outside to the dark sedan. Phil jumping into the passenger seat flipping his phone open.

"Send anything you find to the GPS, we are heading out." He snapped the phone shut before waiting for a reply.

He was going to get his boy back.


Clint sat with his back against the wall of the cellar, he ignored the wetness on his face and used his uninjured hand to wipe at his runny nose. He knew Swordsman had finally gone insane, he always thought there was something not quite right with the man, but he was busy enjoying learning to fire his bow to really think about what the man was capable of. Now he knew, he cradled his bloody hand to his chest and tried desperately not to look at it. The blade had sliced right through his hand and into the table. He had cried out in agony, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face.

Swordsman had stood there smiling that eerie smile that was really starting to creep the teen out.

Clint pulled his knees up to his chest and prayed Phil found him soon.


McDade paced around the room, he was getting nervous. He should be in the wind by now, then this mad man had asked for his services for a little while longer. And since he didn't have his money yet he thought it would be better not to piss him off. Now he was getting fidgety, Coulson wasn't a man to be trifled with and he knew the lengths the man would go, to get the boy back.

He needed to get his money and go. "When am I getting my money? I did what you asked."

The older man smirked at Brutus and turned to the briefcase behind him. "Very well, this is your payment. Thank you for your services agent McDade."

McDade was too busy trying to see the briefcase he didn't notice the other man step behind him and with lightning fast moves had his hands on either side of the agents head and twisted sharply. The agent fell to the floor in a heap.

"Thank you Rayne, he was becoming annoying." He said casually. Then walking to the chair in the corner behind the large desk, he sat with a sigh.

The other man growled. "What about the boy?"

Swordsman hummed in thought. "I still have plans for him, but I suppose I should start negotiations. What do you think?" He wasn't really waiting for a reply and he didn't get one. He liked people who didn't ask too many questions.

Rayne pulled the agents phone out of his pocket and handed it over. He flipped it open and started scrolling through the phonebook, he saw the number he was looking for and hit call.


Phil and the agents were half way towards the co-ordinates for where the target was seen heading into.

His phone started ringing. McDade it flashed.

Coulson almost crushed his phone he gripped it that tightly. "Where is he McDade?! I swear I will kill you if you've touched one hair on his head!" Phil knew he had, so basically they were already dead.

"I'm afraid Agent McDade has lived out his usefulness. But don't worry, young Clint is still mostly in one piece." Phil cursed. "You're a dead man Swordsman…you've already signed your death warrant."

The man tutted over the phone. "Such hostility Agent Coulson. All I want is to be left alone, you stop your people from watching me and Clint will go free. He is merely a tool to use at my disposal."

Phil glared at the agent driving to go faster. He put his foot down.

"You already know we won't stop, your one of the bad guys, we will take you down Swordsman, of that I give you my word."

There was silence on the other end. "So be it." And the line went dead.

"Get us there now! We don't have much time." Phil ordered.

Hold on Clint, I'm coming.


The teen stood shakily when he heard a thump from upstairs, it sounded like a body hitting the floor.

He reused the strip of his t-shirt to wrap round the hole through his hand, it was already saturated in blood and Clint was starting to feel nauseous.

The door slammed shut upstairs. Had someone left? Making his way unsteadily to the staircase, he moved a few things from under the steps and hid. Because it was the wooded steps there was a gap between and he could reach through and trip whoever came down the stairs.

He knew it was risky, but he was pretty sure he didn't have much time left. He had to do something.

As if on cue the door unlocked and he watched as they got to the right position and he quickly grabbed their ankle causing them to shout out in shock and go face first into the concrete floor.

Clint didn't even stop to check who it was, he bundled up the stair as fast as he could, tripping a few times in his hurry to get away.

He made it to the top floor and saw the front door burst open just as he was grabbed from behind, a hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes widened as he saw Phil standing right there in front of him, gun pointed squarely at Swordsman.

Phil's eyes widened at the sight of Clint, blood was smeared on his cheek and a bloody rag was tied round his hand. He looked exhausted, dark rings around his eyes, but he also saw hope shining in those blue-grey eyes.

"Well…well, if it isn't Agent Coulson. We meet finally." He pulled Clint closer to him, the knife returning to the teens throat. "This boy has caused me a lot of trouble."

Phil just glared. "I made a promise.."

Swordsman tilted his head in question. "And what was that promise….?"

Phil tightened his grip on the gun and glanced at Clint before his eyes focused back on his target. Clint's eyes widened, then he clamped them shut as the gun shot rang out.

He fell to the floor in a heap, Phil already on his knees beside him, checking him over and pulling him into a crushing hug.

Clint was sobbing in his arms as Phil shouted for a medic. "I'm sorry…I so, so sorry Phil…."

Phil rocked him back and forth. "Hey…your okay Clint, you're going to be fine…"

Phil knew there were tears running down his cheeks too but he didn't care.

He got his boy back.

Woohoo! Clint's been saved, next the aftermath…..