Chapter Twelve-

Jack let out an awful cry as he stumbled around, before falling beside Ianto, who was lying in a dried pool of his own blood. The deep knife mark was evident; having sliced through Ianto's suit and travelling from his collarbones across his chest, part of his bones showing through. Jack felt his hands shake as he lifted Ianto's head and lay it upon his lap. His heart felt like it had been stabbed and electrocuted simultaneously, bringing him more pain than any other time in his entire existence.

Sherlock was going through virtually the same experience, tripping over his own feet as he collapsed next to his companion.

"J-John. J-John please…"

Sherlock felt before something that he had never felt before. The feeling drowned him, and he felt his skin go numb. He felt his brain systems failing him as he nudged John, before beginning to shake his pale companion's cold corpse.

"John, John…" He muttered repeatedly, not even realising what he was saying, nor noticing his vision had gone blurry.

The Doctor stood in silence, watching the scene. He tried to figure out what the hell went wrong, which was most likely contributed to by Sherlock's last second decision to grab on to Jack and hitch a ride. The Doctor found himself filling with dread, as he realised something was wrong. Just by where Sherlock was grieving the loss of his companion, lay the body of Steve Rogers. In Steve's hand was half of his shield, which had been split. The Doctor couldn't find the other half of Steve's shield, when something caught his eye. He looked up to find a man trekking through the barren sea of corpses, holding the other half of the shield. The man had brown floppy hair, a tweed jacket, ratty converse, and a red bowtie. The man suddenly looked up and made eye contact with the other man. The man just gave him a nod and lifted the shield half slightly, before disappearing as he left down what looked like a slope on the other side of the barren area.

The Doctor realised two things in that moment-

One: If Steve's shield was made from an adamantium-vibranium alloy, which is virtually indestructible, then how the hell did it break?

And then,

Two: The man he had seen was him. There was no doubt about it. He dreaded to think about becoming him with those questionable fashion choices. I mean, bowties? Not cool.

-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-

Clint sat up, rubbing his aching head and blinking, only to find his room was almost too dark to see. He stumbled to stand, finding someone else lying on a bed across the cell they were in. Clint though for a fleeting moment that it might be Ianto, but realised shortly it wasn't, when the other person sat up.

"H-hello?" They called out, and Clint recognised the thick accent and the stutter to be none other than the kid called Neville.

"Hello…" Clint replied, trailing off when he heard Neville let out a heavy sigh of relief.

For a while the two sat in silence. Clint and Neville had never officially met, but now was not the time for introductions. Now was the time for working together to get out of their cell. They didn't know what the hell had happened or why they had passed out, but they could figure that out later.

"Neville, right?" Clint saw the faint outline of Neville's head nod, and he continued. "Ianto, the guy with the suit? Yeah, I'm looking for him. It's my duty to keep him safe. Do you know where Iant-"

Clint was cut off by the sliding open of a nearby door, and a yell echoed through the area. Clint felt his heat drop and his blood run cold as he quickly lunged for the door to bang on it. This couldn't be happening.

"IANTO! " His voice cracked as he called out at the top of his lungs, yet he was still drowned out by the blood-curdling screams of terror from his best friend.

There were sounds of guns shooting and fists hitting flesh, before the screaming died down as it got further away. Clint continued to pound on the heavy metal door, his hands becoming sore, before he curled up his fists and began punching it. The metal didn't give way the slightest as Clint let out his pent up rage and sorrow, not even stopping when his fists were bruised and bleeding heavily. The last time something like this had happened…

The man in question had been taken down, but Clint felt nothing of closure for killing the man. Closure couldn't fix a dying Ianto. Clint had stumbled and collapsed next to Ianto, whose body was littered with cuts, and quite a few bullets had been sunk into his skin, but none as life threatening as the one just below his chest. Ianto was bleeding heavily, breathing shallowly, and fading from Clint's fingertips.

"Ianto?"

Ianto didn't move. Coulson sent in an extraction team and put Ianto in intensive care, and for almost a week, there was nothing, save a fluttering of a heartbeat. Coulson couldn't get Clint on missions, and eventually, Clint had locked himself in a room with pristine white walls and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. For hours on end, he neither ate nor slept, feeling denial, anger, sorrow… But most of all, grief.

"Barton," Coulson had entered one day, but Clint hadn't responded. Coulson continued anyway, "I know this is hard for you…"

"Hard?" Clint had scoffed, punching the punching bag harder.

"But it hurts me too-"

"No, sir," Clint had spit, "this is my fault. I didn't protect him like I should have. It's my fault that he's nearly-"

"No, Agent Barton, it's not your fault. I got him roped into this when he was a child. He's my son, and I was a terrible father."

Clint shook his head. After Ianto had woken, he had wanted out of S.H.I.E.L.D, because he couldn't endure the pain anymore. Clint wasn't supposed to contact Ianto after he had left, but did so anyhow, receiving updates every once in a while. And then after many years, Ianto had called, and now, Clint was here, watching the cycle happen over again. He couldn't let this happen again.

"Ianto…" Clint muttered softly, weakly banging on the door and sliding to his knees.

"I love you."

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is a huge thank you to you all, because this story has gotten over 3k reads! Honestly, thank you for reading, adding this to your favourites, following, and reviewing. Also, this is a celebration of working on this for +40 hours... I literally have no life. Anyhow, have a great day, and I'll hopefully have some more chapters published before exams.

-crash cola (noahcomemidnight)