A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to update the last chapter. Hopefully it won't take so long from now on. Hope you all enjoy this chapter though! R&R. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

The door bell rang and Bruce sighed. Setting the research papers aside, Bruce got up from the couch and made his way towards the door. Opening it up, his body tensed and his mind went into defense mode. Before he could even get his thoughts together, Bruce tried to slam the door shut, but Betty stuck her foot in between the door and its frame, preventing him from doing so.

"Easy, Bruce. I just came here to talk." Bruce's brown eyes studied her coldly, not trusting her and definitely not wanting her on his property.

"There's nothing to talk about anymore, Betty. We're done. It's over. We can't even been friends anymore because you take things too far even when I ask you not to." Betty reached into her purse and took her phone out. She flipped through it before holding it out to show Bruce what she wanted him to see.

"Actually, I wanted to talk about this." Bruce looked at the picture and it felt as though his heart had stopped beating. The picture on Betty's phone was of him and Clint at the mall, holding hands and laughing. Thankfully, Tony and Steve hadn't been caught in the picture, but that was a very small comfort. He felt himself pale and his eyes widened. How the hell did Betty get a hold of that? Had she been following him?

"So, this is who you're with? Clint Barton? Barton?" Betty asked him, her voice filled with disbelief and disgust. "Of all people, why Barton? Why a minor, Bruce? Why one of your students when you could have had me?"

Bruce had to lean on the door frame to keep himself from collapsing. After all of the hard work and caution both he and Clint used to keep their love safe and sound, it had been found out. Not only that, but it had been found out by someone who was surely going to destroy both of them. It was all he could do to keep himself from panicking. What was going to happen now? What did Betty plan to do exactly? Get him fired and arrested? Was that what she wanted? There was always the very slim possibility that she wouldn't report him, but why would she do that? Perhaps she wanted him to be with her in exchange for keeping silent. Either way, Bruce and Clint were royally screwed. This wasn't going to end well. Feeling defeated, Bruce sagged a little against the door frame.

"What do you want from me, Betty?" Betty's dark eyes met his own and Bruce forced himself to repress a shudder.

"Break up with Barton, Bruce." Bruce released a humorless laugh.

"And what? Get back together with you?" A smirk slowly formed on Betty's face.

"No. I know you, Bruce, and I know that you wouldn't risk being caught unless you truly and deeply loved Clint Barton. So instead of getting back together with you, you're going to break up with Clint and be all alone. Because if you don't do that, then not only will Principal Fury find out about your sordid love affair, but so will the police. And so will everyone else in this town." Bruce glared at her, his anger starting to bubble dangerously close to the surface. He knew that Betty had the upper hand in this, but part of him didn't care anyway. Part of him wanted to reach out and choke her, deprive her of life just as she was depriving him of his life. But Bruce didn't reach out and wrap his hands around her neck. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the ground.

"You can't be serious…"

"Do you really want to try me, Bruce?" No, Bruce didn't want to try her. He wouldn't risk it. Although it broke his heart even thinking about leaving Clint, Bruce honestly didn't see a way out.

"Alright… Alright…" Bruce sighed, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Betty's countenance brightened up and her posture relaxed a bit. She put her phone back in her purse.

"Good. I'm glad to know that you're still the smart guy that I knew and loved." Bruce snorted and kept his gaze focused on anything but Betty.

"How will I know that you broke up with that Barton brat?" Bruce's eyes, filled with rage and loathing, met hers and Betty stepped back, obviously shocked and frightened at what she saw in them.

"Trust me, you'll know. Now get off my property." She wasted no time in leaving and Bruce was more than grateful for that. Otherwise he really would have killed her. From his place in the doorway, he watched as Betty got in her car and drove away. Finally, Bruce managed to pull himself away from the door and close it. Retreating into his house, Bruce grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Clint.

I need to talk to you now. Within a matter of seconds, Clint responded.

At practice. When do u want me to come over?

As soon as you can.

Sure thing, Brucie. Bruce was glad for the extra time. He'd need it to prepare for the worst thing he was about to experience in his life. Wasting no time, Bruce got up, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and made his way to the kitchen. Sitting down, he began to write furiously, jotting down everything that Clint would need to know. Of course, he'd tell Clint not to look at it until he got home, but something was better than nothing.

…

He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

He ran from all of those horrifying words, from the overwhelming sadness and utter heartbreak that was threatening to destroy him, from the man that he loved and who had claimed to have loved him…

Clint ran past his home, past his parents who would want to know what had happened as soon as he ran into the house and up the stairs. He ran past his house filled with warm light and love because he didn't want them to see the hot tears streaming down his face and the despair and sorrow etched in his features. If his parents saw him so upset, they'd demand to know what had happened, and Clint knew that he wouldn't be able to conjure the words. Even a lie would be impossible for him to achieve at the moment.

"We can't do this anymore, Clint." Yes, yes we fucking can. Don't give me that shit, Bruce, Clint had wanted to yell and shout at the man. But he was in too much shock to speak.

"This just isn't going to work out." But it would if Bruce would just work with him a little. Yes, Clint knew that he was a flawed human being, but he never thought that Bruce had an issue with that. Hell, everyone was flawed, so Bruce couldn't have been expecting perfection.

"I'm so sorry, Clint." Liar, Clint had thought, you're not sorry, not one bit. If you were, then you wouldn't be doing this.

"Please take this, Clint." Clint had stepped back when Bruce had offered the envelope, but the man had forced it into his hand. Bruce tried to pull him into a hug, but Clint couldn't stand being in that house any longer, so he ran.

And he hadn't stopped. Not until he was at the park on the other side of town with legs that felt as though they were about to collapse from under him. Now, he was sitting on the ground leaning against one of the big oak trees, the earth beneath him cold and hard. Clint's chest rose and fell as he panted and he ran a hand over his face, wiping away whatever tear-stains were there. Well, he tried to. He knew that he looked like hell; he felt even worse. When Bruce had texted him, an unsettling feeling had fallen upon him, but Clint shrugged it off. Now though, he knew that he should have figured something bad was going to happen.

Why would Bruce break up with him? Did something go wrong? It didn't seem as though something had gone wrong? Hadn't Bruce told him that Clint was everything he wanted? Was that a lie? Had it all been a lie?

Remembering the envelope Bruce had given him, Clint pulled it out of his pocket. He laughed, a humorless laugh that sounded more like a choked sob, and he hesitated in opening it. Why did Bruce give this damn thing to him? To remind Clint of what he had lost? As though he'd be able to forget any time soon. Nonetheless, Clint opened the envelope, receiving a paper cut while he did so. Cursing, he sucked on the cut as he pulled the letter out. It was Bruce's writing – of course it would be – and it appeared to have been hastily written, which worried Clint. But his blue eyes ran over the words on the paper, drinking in everything that was there.

His tears stopped and his sadness and pain dulled, but only just, and not enough to make Clint feel marginally better. Hope, however, began to rise into his chest as he read the letter. When he was done, he read the letter again, allowing his brain to actually process what Bruce had wanted to tell him so desperately. Somehow, Ms. Ross had found out. She had pictures of them, she knew of the love affair that Bruce and Clint were having. If Bruce didn't leave Clint, she'd go to the authorities and then Bruce would be taken away forever. At that, a sharp stab of pain grasped Clint's heart. He never wanted to see Bruce behind bars, ever. The man was too good, too wonderful to have to suffer just because of the love they shared. Ms. Ross wanted Bruce to suffer more than she wanted him back; she wanted Bruce to be alone, to want and need and crave what he had had but couldn't have any longer thanks to her. Clint knew that he should have been angry at the man for being so cowardly, but he couldn't be angry at Bruce. Hell, he could never hate the man for anything, not when he had done so much for Clint and for their love.

When he was done, Clint folded the paper up and shoved it in his pocket. Knowing that Bruce really didn't want to break up with Clint gave him some peace of mind. It made him feel a little better, but this entire situation brought questions to his mind. How had Ms. Ross found out about them? Did she find out on her own or did she have help? Who would have helped her? Why would they help her? Feeling drained and exhausted beyond belief, Clint forced himself to stand up on wobbly legs and started his trek home. He'd have to tell Tony about this; he wanted to tell Tony about this. Perhaps, together, they'd figure something out.

…

"Why hello, Clint." Clint tensed when he heard Loki's voice. He kept his eyes focused on the contents in his locker though.

"Loki." He could hear the smirk on the taller boy's face as he spoke.

"You're looking haggard today. Have you been sleeping well?" Nightmares had kept Clint from sleeping, nightmares about Bruce leaving him, breaking up with him worse than he had. His archery hadn't suffered from it, but his body was starting to lag.

"As best as I can. Why do you wanna know?" Loki was way too close to him. Clint could feel the other's body heat radiating off of him and it made him extremely uncomfortable.

"You're a fascinating creature, Clint. In fact, I'd like to study you more." Clint's stomach clenched. He'd rather be as far away from Loki as possible. But Clint didn't say anything. Instead, he just got his books and shoved them into his book bag, wanting the conversation to be done and over with already.

"Would you like to go on a date sometime? Perhaps to the movies or dinner? Whatever you prefer." At long last, Clint looked at Loki, blue eyes staring defiantly into green ones.

"How about not? I have others things to do aside from going out on dates." Loki frowned and Clint felt victorious. Apparently, the other teen hadn't been expecting that. That's what he got for being so cocky and arrogant, though.

"Why not? Are you with that Stark fellow or something?" Something in Loki's eyes told Clint that the other knew that Tony was just a friend and nothing more. But Clint didn't call him out on it, not when he wasn't sure what exactly Loki had been implying. He'd have to tell Tony about it later on and, hopefully, they'd be able to figure it out.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone." Clint zipped up his book bag and shut his locker.

"Then why did you reject my date proposal?" Clint almost growled, but he forced himself not to.

"Because I don't like you, Loki. It's that simple. Sorry, but that's the truth. Catch ya later." Clint left the teenager at his locker, hoping and praying that he wouldn't 'catch him later' as he had said. He'd rather go the rest of his life without seeing Loki ever again, but he knew that that wasn't realistic. Still, a guy could dream, couldn't it?