A/N: PHEW! Guess what? We're facing another update, which means that this fic's updating schedule is FINALLY back on track. Yay?

BUT, before letting you move on to the actual story… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for you reviews and support! They're the wind beneath my typing-wings, ya know? (grins, and HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all silly… LET'S GO! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of drug use.

Chapter 7 of 10 – Let the Pain Go

/ Years flew by. Agatha and her horse became things in the past. Only, they were still fresh and wide-open wounds in Will's mind. Just like his birth-family.

He did whatever he could to get the attention of his adoptive parents. For a long time me stayed close, attempted to seek comfort and approval. Eventually, when being alone began to hurt even more, he started lashing out. He let his grades drop on purpose in faint hopes that it might earn him a moment of their time. When he was finally old enough he started bringing home dates he knew his so-called parents would detest and ensured that they were seen. He stopped doing that when all it did was make his adoptive mother cry and his adoptive father punch him. When all else failed he finally cracked, and screamed at the top of his lungs. Unleashed all of the ache and venom years upon years had gathered.

His adoptive parents had him referred to a new psychiatrist. Will fooled this one like he'd fooled all those before her, because despite good intentions she couldn't have given him any of those things he desperately needed. And he realized that if he wanted to stop hurting, stop feeling like he was drowning, he'd have to find a way to stop it on his own.

He was in high school, at a house-party he'd been invited to because someone had felt sorry for him. And once he'd consumed enough alcohol, more than he should've… He discovered that people actually liked him when he spouted jokes and sarcastic remarks. People didn't know how to deal with the pain of others, and they relaxed when they imagined that he wasn't hurting anymore.

A boy he dimly recognized as a quarterback patted his back roughly and grinned dopily. "You know… You're not so bad, after all, when you loosen up. You know…" The boy looked around to make sure that no one else was listening. "If you really wanna loosen up… There's this stuff you've gotta try."

Will struggled not to shift with discomfort, feeling a little too sober. "Yeah? Does it give a good buzz?" What was he doing?

The quarterback's grin widened. "Hell yeah! Makes you feel like you're on top of the world."

Will knew, from the beginning, that it was a huge mistake. That he should've walked away and never looked back. Instead he followed, blatantly ignoring the voice in his head that sounded like Clint screaming at him to stop.

The stuff he was given… It made his heart race like it was about to explode, it made him feel like flying. The nausea which followed afterwards… It was something horrific. But he also knew that he'd try again. Because for those few hours of bliss he was finally free of all pain. /

/ For the second time in his Clint was in an orphanage. He was in pain, physically and emotionally. Angry at the whole world that'd now taken two families from him. But at least it was an environment he knew, and he was quick to resign himself to the thought that no one would ever adopt him. Want him. Choose him.

He was alone in the world again. But that was familiar, too. At least that way he couldn't bring pain and misery to anyone else, ever again.

Barney definitely wasn't adapting. The older boy tormented him as much as he could, and treated the adults around them in a way that made Clint flinch several times. He didn't know where Barney sneaked into during the dark hours of night and was probably happier that way.

Five months after they were brought in he was dreaming of his birth-family, in the middle of something that was a mixture of a nightmare and wishful thinking. A harsh, almost painful hand grabbing his shoulder and shaking woke him. "Brat, get up, now. We're leaving."

Clint blinked owlishly and yawned. His stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of leaving the last remnants of familiarity and normalcy behind. "Go where?" he inquired quietly, sounding even younger than he was.

"Stop being annoying and asking questions. Or I'll leave you behind. You owe me, remember? For killing my parents."

Perhaps he would've been better off getting left behind. Maybe they both would've been. But losing the last thing like a family member he had… The thought was unbearable. As was guilt. So he obeyed meekly, his heart racing as he wondered just what he was getting himself into.

They walked and walked. Until Clint was sure that his feet wouldn't be able to handle another step. Finally, at the break of dawn, his exhausted eyes widened at the sight of a circus.

'Carson Carnival of Traveling Wonders'

They found a man who seemed barely conscious while smoking hungrily. A harsh glare was aimed first at him, then at Barney. "What the hell of 'Get lost' gave you the impression that I'd be interested in having two more mouths to fill?" the man spat.

Barney shrugged. Only a careful eye caught the hints of fear on his face. "These mouths are cheap?"

The man rolled his eyes and threw away the cigarette. "Stop wasting my time and go back home." With that verdict he turned and began to walk away. "Useless brats…"

Clint's blood boiled from rage and terror. They had no other place to go. If this man would reject them… His sharp eyes caught a knife on the ground. Without a thought he grabbed and threw it, purposefully missing the stranger by much less than an inch. "We don't have a home!" he growled. "And we're not useless!"

"Perhaps you're not, with an aim like that", a new voice mused from behind them. He looked over his shoulder to encounter a pair of curious eyes. "That was impressive."

The first man snorted. "That was just dumb luck."

Clint responded by grabbing a stone and tossing it, more pleased than he should've been when it met the middle of the accusing man's forehead.

The second man laughed. "I don't think so." The eyes looking at him were even more curious, now. "I'm Jacques, and he's Buck. Who knows… Maybe we can make a star out of you. Buck could definitely teach you a thing or two."

In his immense relief over not having been rejected Clint failed to see the chilling amount of hatred and jealousy that'd filled Barney's eyes. /

When Clint didn't return for a full hour both teams began to grow… concerned. The doctor only allowed short visits. Had something gone wrong?

Out of a silent agreement those of them who'd had the patience to sit instead of pacing got up, and they began to make their way towards Will's room. They weren't quite sure what they expected to find. The rather chilling reality made them all freeze.

A trashcan had been kicked all the way across the room and it carried a lot of visible damage. Clint stood in the middle of the room, back towards them and breathing hard. Will and the man's hospital bed were missing.

Benji swallowed thickly, a fist of ice squeezing his whole chest. "What… What happened?" he managed. Just this once he wasn't ashamed of his high-pitched tone.

Clint took a couple of more breaths. "Complications." His tone was clipped, lost. The man balled both fists, which was when they noticed the bruised knuckles. "They… took him away. Didn't tell me a thing."

Benji felt cold before. Those words… They sucked out what little oxygen there was in his lungs.

"Clint." Ethan's voice was the same he used during the direst situations on missions. Tight, professional, barely under control. "Is he…?" Even the seasoned super-agent couldn't bring himself to voice the last word. Not when this wasn't just a mission, but a friend. Hell, someone to be considered family.

For several endlessly long moments there was no response. Not even a reaction. The one they eventually got was barely audible. "I don't know." Then, so quickly that they didn't get the chance to really see his face or ask a thing, the Hawk spun around and marched out of the room.

Instinctively needing to try and fix at least one thing, Ethan moved to follow. Natasha's hand grabbing the agent's painfully tense shoulder was enough to stop him. "Don't", she advised in a clipped tone. "Not when he's… like that. Let him lick his wounds. He'll come back when he's ready to face us." To some that might've sounded harsh. But both teams had spent enough time with one twin to understand.

Ethan nodded sharply and gritted his teeth so hard it made a sickening sound.

The quiet taking over the room was suffocating. "Let's just… Let's wait here", Tony finally suggested, unable to take the silence any longer. "They won't tell us anything, so… Then we'd see when they bring him back." Because Will never making it through this… It just wasn't an option.

None of them noticed Benji leaving the room.

Clint just saw the brother he wasn't supposed to ever see again stop breathing altogether. Had to endure watching the man's ill heart stop, unable to do a thing to stop it or help. Now he needed somewhere he could breathe. Because his own heart felt like it'd been torn to tiny, sharp pieces.

He charged forward blindly, ignoring the people he bumped into. Somehow he made it out of the building and gasped loudly, desperately, upon facing fresh air. It wasn't enough to fill his lungs. He barely made it to a bench before he slumped, face buried into both hands. Once down he continued to pant helplessly, and tried to somehow will his brother to keep breathing as well.

This was his doing. He couldn't keep Will safe, instead he made things worse. And now… Now…

Steps approached him slowly, almost cautiously. Clint found himself tensing up instinctively. Apparently one of his teammates didn't get the memo that company was the last thing he wanted right now. Hoping that he wouldn't sound as harsh as a part of him wanted to, he lifted his gaze. All intended words got caught into his throat.

Benji stood a few steps away with a look of uncertainty on his face. The man's eyes seemed moist, or perhaps it was a trick caused by sunlight. "I don't wanna talk or anything. Just…" The Britt swallowed thickly. "I just wanna have one of you within sight."

Clint shuddered and looked away. What was he supposed to say to that? He gulped, which was no help against the horrible taste sitting in his throat. "Benji, I'm…"

"Oh, shut up and stop being a bloody moron." Benji aimed for a scoff but it sounded more like a sob. "You're shoulders aren't broad enough to carry the weight of the whole bloody world. That's what my mum used to say."

Clint couldn't quite smile. But he felt marginally lighter. "Have you been good at following that advice?"

Benji flopped to the bench beside him. Then snorted. "Nah, not exactly."

Silence that had a nearly companionable air to it lingered over them. Both drifted deep in thought until Clint finally spoke. "Benji? There's…" The Avenger sighed heavily. "There's nothing you could've done to stop… this."

Benji licked his lips nervously. "Yeah, well, we… Eh… We haven't been helping, either." The man's accent was particularly thick when he was overwhelmed. "All that… insane stuff he's been pulled into with us…" He looked down in shame. "We've… done a pretty poor job at keeping him safe."

Clint shook his head. "He's never wanted to be kept safe. He's wanted a life worth living, and… you've given him that." It was something he failed to provide Will with. These people felt more like a proper family to his brother than he did, and it stung, happy as he was that his twin had the team. "That's why he's still fighting now."

Most people would've scolded him, saying that he was being stupid or sappy. Benji looked at him with big eyes. Almost like a child trying to see if the words of comfort from their parent were honest. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Several hours later the waiting was really starting to get to them. Ethan found himself pacing around restlessly, and every time he glanced towards the door to find nothing that agitation grew. Patience had never been his greatest virtue.

"You're not used to this, are you?" His gaze following the voice, he discovered Natasha watching him. "The waiting rooms. The stress."

Ethan sighed, only then realizing just how tense he was. "No, guess not", he admitted. "Does it show?"

Natasha shrugged. "Only to someone with experience." She nodded towards where Clint was talking quietly with Steve, their backs towards them. "With how many times that idiot's been in a trouble, I consider myself something of an expert."

Despite the bleak topic Ethan found himself smiling, just a little. "It never gets easier, does it?"

"No, not really." He could feel her gaze studying him, even though he was looking away. "It bothers you, doesn't it? That he didn't tell you about his condition. Or about his brother."

"Just like it bothers you that Clint never told you", he pointed out without any malice.

It was almost amusing. Two people with tremendous trust issues, upset over their friends with similar problems not having shared something important with them. Something that'd been weighing on their hearts and shoulders all their lives.

"Will… He'll pull through." Natasha sounded almost like she believed her own words. "And when he does… They'll have a lot of issues to sort out. And they'll have to go through with the funeral."

"We'll be there for them." The words came easily, with confidence. Because, really, what other alternative was there? "All of us."

Natasha looked away subtly, and it occurred to him that perhaps she'd been testing him. "Good. Because they'll need us." Suddenly her steel hard eyes softened a fraction, most likely without her noticing. "Well, at least something good has come out of all this mess."

Curious, Ethan shifted his gaze towards the same direction. There was no fighting back the tiny grin appearing to his lips. On a couch a small distance away from them Benji and Tony sat, engaged in an animated discussion. Their faces full of excitement and hands moving in wild patterns, both distracted from the stressful current situation for a few blissful moments.

"That may lead to a lot of trouble", Ethan suspected.

"It will", Natasha confirmed.

They'd face that together, too.

Whatever relief there'd been vanished like a spell had been broken when Will's doctor finally appeared. The man seemed utterly exhausted while his eyes sought and found Clint. "We were forced to perform another surgery. But… His condition is stable, at least for now."

"So…" Desperate hope shone in Benji's eyes. "He'll be okay?"

The doctor's shoulders slumped a little. "Let's just take this one hour at a time." The man focused on Clint once more. "I… have to warn you. This has all taken its toll on him. He may seem… very unwell right now."

"Just take me to him. He…" Clint's composure cracked for a few seconds and he cleared his throat to conceal it. "He hates hospitals. He shouldn't be alone."

The doctor nodded slowly, obviously wondering what to make of the man in front him. "Alright. But to avoid overwhelming him I can only promise you fifteen minutes."

Clint nodded. Something about the almost hidden defiance in his eyes reminded of a schoolboy prepared to do something forbidden. "Understood." In their minds they all wished strength and patience to the medical professionals who'd have to try and remove him from Will's side.

The doctor obviously didn't know Clint. "Good. Follow me."

Before obeying Clint gave them all a long look. Clearly seeking strength and courage. Whatever he saw, it made a fraction of the tension all over him disappear. With that mysterious something as his only shield he turned again and left, like someone heading towards a war.

Clint remembered what happened the previous time he visited his brother far too clearly. But for all his flaws he'd never been a coward, and he wasn't about to start now. And so, after several deep breaths, he braced himself and walked in. He'd been told that Will wasn't exactly doing well, of course, but still the sight caught him off guard.

In Will's current condition he couldn't be trusted to keep breathing on his own, so he'd been connected to a ventilator. Just to give him an extra chance at resting and recuperating. Clint was almost certain that there were several new tubes and wires connected to his brother. All the mechanical, clinical noise in the room chilled the archer to the bone.

Clint swallowed hard against the lump that rose to his throat. Fearing to approach after the previous time, he walked closer and sat slowly to the chair someone had left beside the bed. "Don't… Don't you dare scare me like that again. Do you hear me? We…" He shook his head. "We've got this huge mess to sort out. And… I need you here for that." I NEED YOU.

Will offered no response, but in his current emotional state Clint chose to take the blip of a heart monitor as one.

Clint's gaze fell, and he found himself staring at his brother's hand. At the hint of blue under those fingernails. He found himself wondering if Will was feeling cold. Hoping that he wasn't making a disastrous mistake he took the hand and shivered at how cool it felt to the touch.

He gulped again and risked to tighten his hold. "You need rest, I get that. So sleep. Just… Know that I'm not letting you go anywhere, not ever again." He made the mistake of sending his brother away once. If Will would choose to stay, and let him stay in his life in any way… Then he'd never make that same mistake again.

There'd be a long road ahead of them. There was no telling how things would turn out. But for now he'd wait, and hang on with tooth and nail, for both of them.

He could only hope that Will wouldn't give up, either.

TBC

A/N: So… The fight continues. (sighs) Let's hope that Will makes it through, and they'll get the chance to sort things out! They've been through too much pain and tragedy already.

SOOOO… Was that any good, at all? Off to the trash-bin? PLEASE, do leave a note to let me know! I LOVE hearing from you.

Awkay, I REALLY need some sleep now. Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!