Chapter 11: There is No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin

Kiev, Ukraine

Clint offered an awkward smile to the little girl staring at him over the top of the uncomfortable train station benches. She may have been no more than seven but his unyielding focus like she had just caught Bigfoot stumbling out of the forest was unnerving. The archer pulled his coat tighter around himself before adjusting his glasses and pulling his hat further down. He wasn't sure where Natasha had found their wardrobe, his uniform in tatters and blood, but it wasn't rendering them as obscure as he would like.

Hell he wasn't sure that Natasha hadn't kept walking right out the doors when she offered to go buy them their tickets. He was a risk to their half-hearted escape which consisted of simply getting back to more friendly SHIELD territory. Most of his injuries had been designed to inflict pain(comma) but not inflict serious damage and denying his captors the time they needed to get him to crack. Still, pain was a good deterrent against movement, something a good escape plan consisted of, especially with Natasha assuring him once Uri found her and Clint gone and Mikhail's body, the Red Room would be sending its full force to 'collect' them.

"We have a problem," stated Natasha, abruptly sitting down beside him.

Clint gritted his teeth as he forced himself to shift more towards Natasha. "I'd say we have many problems."

"We have a more current and pressing problem," she snarled through clenched teeth, subtly tipping her head back towards the ticket booth.

Barton glanced over his shoulder to the two suits talking to the clerk. "Yours or mine?"

"Not mine," replied Romanoff, pulling her hood up. She was nervous. It was one thing to talk about betraying everything you knew another to do it. Ending it seemed easier. She had been making mistakes for months, hoping someone would notice and exploit them, instead a cocky American boy convinced her that changing sides would be a better use of her talents. Really, if something good could come of all the things she'd done in her life, she owed it herself to try and make things right, to attempt to offer some sort of balance to her misdeeds. She assumed SHIELD would shoot her the second they came to reclaim their wayward agent but feeling the enemy so close now made her face the possibility that it wouldn't be as simple as a bullet in the head. She stared at the exit door paralyzed with indecision; her heart telling her to stay, her brain telling her to go.

Clint sat there listening more than watching, not wanting to draw attention to the pair sitting on the bench. Lots of organizations wore suits, and he didn't recognize the two men at the ticket window, not that that meant anything given the sheer size of SHIELD. He could feel the tension radiating off of Natasha and infecting him like a contagion. The potential for SHIELD to be in the area to pull his ass out of the fire should have been an elated feeling, but he couldn't shake loose the feeling of dread crawling up his spine.

Clint knew some of his trepidation was due to his imagined homecoming, the disappointment that was bound to be in Phil's eyes. He'd disobeyed a direct order, Coulson's order and even marching the Black Widow into their skillful hands wasn't going to diminish that fact. At best, he'd be out on the street much like after the circus, at worse, he'd find that bullet Natasha had been looking for. Most likely he'd see the inside of that dark hole Fury often threatened to shove him in if it wasn't for Coulson's interference.

The world came to a standstill when four other agents came in through the door, guns drawn and aiming at Clint. "Clint Barton, you're under arrest on orders of SHIELD and the WSC."

Barton forgot how to breathe as his brain tried desperately to decipher the words that sounded like they were in English but failed to hold any meaning as he sat there in shock. Between shuddering heart beats Natasha turned her head to glare at as though she'd been handcuffed to the stupidest person on the planet. The seconds that had slowed down to play out over what seemed like hours, were further complicated as Natasha grabbed the archer by the collar, throwing both of them to the floor as a storm of bullets flew over their heads.

The force of hitting the ground knocked time back into its normal rhythm. Pain exploded in Clint's side but he pulled his arms over his head instead, blocking the raining debris of materials sent flying by the onslaught of bullets. They were coming from all directions, but they didn't seem to be hitting neither Clint nor Natasha.

"We have to get out of here before they kill each other," shouted Romanoff over the noise. Pulling her gun out, she shot blindly over the bench before pushing Clint on to his knees and in the direction of the bathrooms.

He staggered onto all fours, a far cry from his graceful acrobatics that had been part of his claim to fame in the circus and began scrambling towards the bathroom door. He caught glimpses of the blood bath taking place around them between the two warring factions that had momentarily forgot the presence of their target in the wake of discovering agents for the other side had entered the building. Taking shelter behind the next bench, Barton pulled his gun out from his boot and offered a reassuring smile to the woman and the child huddled next to them. The same wide eyes that had scrutinized his appearance earlier were focused slowly on him despite the chaos taking place around the little girl.

Clint took a deep breath and counted to ten before springing into action. He sprang up, Natasha following behind, grabbed the girl and ushered the woman forward. He fired blindly towards Romanoff's former allies while Natasha shot to force the SHIELD to take cover. Moving the innocent bystanders out of the direct line of fire, the archer and the spy threw themselves through the bathroom door under a hailstorm of bullets.

Clint gasped as he crashed to the floor. Kicking the door closed before squirming around the corner. Natasha clicked the lock shut before joining him out of the line of fire.

"That won't hold them for long." She shouted over the thundering of the guns. "What's part two of this plan genius?"

Glancing around, Barton caught sight of the window and smiled. Gesturing toward it, he said, "Ladies first."

Natasha rolled her eyes before shooting several rounds through the door. Taking the lead she pried open the window and crawled outside, Barton dropping on top of her on the pavement below. She pushed him off, before climbing to her feet and pulling him up too. The growing red stain on his side didn't go unnoticed but they didn't have time to worry about torn stitches just yet.

"The car." Barton pointed across the parking lot. They scurried over, praying everyone was too preoccupied inside to notice their quarry wasn't in the building anymore. The archer's skill full hands had the door open and wires stripped to hotwire the car in less than a minute. It rumbled to life providing the pair a quick getaway from their ride out of town.

Natasha broke the silence first. "I thought SHIELD was going to rescue us." Her sarcasm was only met with silence. "I can hardly wait to see part two of this portion of the plan."

"Me too," mumbled Clint as he shifted to get more comfortable behind the wheel.

"Well Coulson, let's hear your excuse for Barton this time," snarled Ridley storming into operations. One of the technicians cued up the video feed of the team sent to check out a lead in Kiev.

Phil turned his attention to the monitor already knowing he wasn't going to like whatever the team found. He watched in silence as Barton, right next to the Black Widow evaded capture and fled the scene, after shooting at the agents on the ground. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Barton surpassed his expectations.

"You can't protect him this time Coulson," cautioned Ridley.

"What has Director Fury said on the matter?"

"Director Fury is unavailable, leaving this mess in my capable hands."

That was what Phil was afraid of. He knew the kind of leeway he had with Nick, often taking liberties with their friendship but the AD was a different matter. The only safe course of action was by the book and Clint had gone and tied Phil's hands.

"In addition to the charges already laid against Barton, he's just declared war on SHIELD. Orders have been issued to bring him in dead or alive and his little Russian friend too. No more talking Coulson, it's a done deal."

"I still think we're missing something here," Phil countered. Something had changed between the archer being certified as an agent and Germany and he wasn't sure it was Barton's loyalty to SHEILD. He'd figured something out or was being coerced into action against SHIELD. Phil refused to believe it had all been a ploy, an infiltration of SHIELD, he refused to believe that he had been too blind to see through Clint's betrayal. It was getting harder to argue the case though.

With the full force of SHIELD set to come down on the ex-carney's head, Phil was going to have to find a way to solve the mystery or bring Barton in himself.

Clint walked the three blocks to a payphone, keeping his arm tight against his side in a sloppy attempt to ease the pain burning through his side. They'd managed to put three towns between them and the train station, taking refuge in the worst dump of a hotel they could find. He deposited a handful of coins in the slot and dialed the number from memory.

"Come on, come on," he mumbled as he listened the phone ring.

The phone picked up on the other end. "This is Coulson."

Clint's knees almost gave out with relief. "Sir, I need a little help with an extraction here."

"Barton?" whispered Phil. The background noise on Phil's end began to fade away until there was only silence. "Barton, this line isn't secure."

"I know but it's the only way I could contact you. Didn't think SHIELD would pass on a message and I'm a little fucked at the moment, sir."

"A little? I think we need to work on your understanding of the English language. Just what the hell are you thinking?"

The anger coming through the phone gave Clint pause. Even when Phil was pissed, he was still calm. "Look I know I screwed up and I know it looks bad but, if I could just explain."

"Barton, you've taken this out of my hands. I warned you and you still defied orders. And having a shoot out with fellow agents... Christ Barton, why don't you just shoot the Director if you wanted that kind of heat, at least you'd be in the States instead of on foreign soil, gearing up for an international incident."

"You can use my ass for target practice later. And I promise to explain but if you have a way to bring us in from the cold, I could really use it," pleaded Clint.

"Us? Barton, you give me a headache. SHIELD's coming for you Barton. Get yourself to Trento Italy and I'll contact you there. Be careful."

"Thank you," answered Clint before hanging up the phone. It was the best he could hope for, more than he thought he'd get. They were probably walking into the waiting hands of a SHIELD security team but at least Coulson would be there. He might live to see his court martial yet.