Author's Note: Hey guys! I would have put this up a couple hours ago but I had a sleepover where I didn't get any sleep last night, so I've been pretty tired. Kinda crazy thing, this is the second-to-last chapter. There'll probably still be bonus chapter Xovers every once in a while, but now I'm at a dilemma. I had this really weird dream, while I was sick last week, that's in the End Note (first one not the second one) and I was wondering if you guys think that's a good idea for the sequel, so tell me your thoughts. Hope you guys have a great week! School's almost over for me! WOOOOHOOOOO!

Also, if you're interested, check out my new Avengers (1st person) story called "QBR" that I just started. There'll be no romance, no slash, rated K+, and I'm trying my best to be funny and use a new style. Anyway, here's chapter 26!

The two archers were in the range, firing arrows at targets and seeing who had better accuracy. Clint was pleasantly surprised by Violet-Sky's aim. It had been a week since the "New York Firestorm"—as the media had been calling it—and the younger Barton's burnt arm was in the middle of rehab. It felt like she had never freaking got out of rehab. She was in some sort of perpetual cycle of injury. When she voiced those thoughts to her cousin, he chuckled. "Welcome to the club. It's called SHIELD," he joked. She laughed and whacked him with an arrow shaft.

"So, what's going to happen now?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't want them to kill him—I mean, he's my brother—but at the same time, people like him—or rather, how he's become—should be killed. That's why there are people like me. And you. And Tristan," Clint admitted. Violet-Sky pursed her lips thoughtfully as they sat down.

"The guy in the Morph Suit…" she trailed off.

"Died. Of blood loss."

"How did you know him?"

"Who said I knew him?" Clint demanded, defensively.

"I did. How did you think he ended up in SHIELD's dungeons?" she retorted.

"I'm… not entirely sure."

"That scar on my foot, the one that wasn't there when you left, I got that breaking one of your mugs when you were gone. It dropped, a shard cut my foot. I bound it up. It healed really quickly. When I went out to replace the mug, I was attacked by a guy in a freakin' Morph Suit. He told me he was an old friend of my uncle's. I told him I didn't have an uncle. Which leads me to assume you knew him."

"How did he find out about you living with me?"

"I don't know. But how did you know him?"

"Saw a lot of people, living with a travelling circus. Sideshows, local entertainment promoting their businesses, stuff like that. Along with those people you see a lot of… well… weirdoes. There was this one group that travelled with us for several months. They danced to Chinese-sounding music, wore those suits under all sorts of different outfits, and wore those cone straw hats. The Chinese ones. There were three of them. Travis, Harrison, and Ryan. Good friends, Ohio natives. Never thought I'd see them again. They were so nice. I never thought I'd see one of them turn."

"Which one was it?"

"Travis. He was always the more isolated of the three, but to team up with Barney—"

"Well, it makes sense. I mean, Barney knew them too, back when you were in the circus. If either of them heard the other had some… less-than-moral ideas, somehow, then it'd be natural for them to latch onto someone they know rather than someone they didn't."

"You're very wise, Vi," Clint remarked. Violet-Sky mmmed noncommittally, grinning.

"Nah. Just know how people think. At least, that's what I'd do," she replied.

Clint wrapped his arm around her sweaty shoulders. That was an interesting part about her, he decided. She didn't mind being sweaty. Most girls would be freaking out that they were covered with sweat. Violet-Sky didn't care. She completely content with being exactly who she was. Nothing stopped her from showing the world who she was—besides taking on characters for missions. But she hadn't had any yet. She'd just been promoted to field work when all the crap started.

"What if they ask you to kill him?" she suddenly asked, leaning her head against his chest. He stroked her hair as he thought.

"You know, kiddo, I don't know," he admitted. His arm tightened around her.

"Hey! Baby Barton!" Tony Stark exclaimed, bursting into the room. Violet-Sky sat up ramrod straight. They both turned to see the billionaire standing there, looking very proud of himself because of something. The younger archer stood and looked him square in the eye. "You need to come and see what I just made! Clint, you can come too!" He grabbed Violet-Sky's wrist and dragged her out of the range. Clint trailed after them as the eccentric genius led them through the winding hallways of the lower Tower.

He pushed open one of the doors and flung his arms out with a loud, "TA-DA!"

"It's… an Iron Man suit… for a cat," Violet-Sky commented delicately.

"What? Oh. No. I made that ages ago. I forgot to press the button," Stark amended. He pulled a plank of glass out of his pocket. Images and projections flashed over its surface—Smartphone to the max. "Check out my Starkphone!" He pushed a red button in the center of the screen. The pedestal the Iron Cat was on started to rumble and move.

Violet-Sky brushed a few wisps of brown hair out of her face as the floor began to part. Clint took a protective hold on her elbow—a grip that she had become so used to she completely ignored it.

Some bulky metal thing burst out of the floor. It was massive, but Violet-Sky had no clue what it was. "Um… it's cool-looking and all… but… what—exactly—is it?" she inquired. Stark looked a little offended, but not particularly surprised.

"Well, after I spent twenty minutes repairing a turbine, I took a serious look at other ways to achieve lift—actually I did that several years ago. It's a repulsor module for a Helicarrier!"

"Like the things that let your suits fly?" Clint asked.

"Precisely!" Tony announced.

"Impressive."

"I know right?" The dark-haired man looked like a kid in a candy store. "Wanna see how they work?" He beamed.

"I'd love to, but I wouldn't understand any of it. Just because I graduated high school a year early doesn't mean I have PhD from MIT like you do or something like that," Violet-Sky informed him. He looked slightly crestfallen, but apparently decided to show them how it worked anyway. The two archers ignored his scientific babbling in order to examine the repulsor itself. It was bigger than the turbines on the Helicarrier Hulk had nearly ripped to shreds a year and a half ago, but it was more elegant and had no rotors. Clint was looking impressed, and Violet-Sky was concentrating. Like she was trying to figure out its scientific workings for herself instead of having them explained to her by a genius.

"—last but not least, it's eco-friendly!"

"Like this entire Tower. Clean energy," Violet-Sky commented.

"Precisely!"

End Note: GUYS! We played the Captain America March for my band concert! We put it together in three weeks! It took us three months on two of our other pieces! I'd upload the recording to YouTube, but my sister was making comments the whole time and didn't have the idea to break it up into songs. She just recorded the whole 40 minutes, including the Awards ceremony. So, sorry. But, according to my friends, we sounded just like the official recording. We're good like that. There's a reason we're the top tier band in our school and one of the best in the state.

Interesting note, to those of you who have mentioned that my fight scenes are really jumpy: I completely agree. In real life, I'm an unromantic, slightly violent writer. The fascinating thing is I write romance better than violence. Don't know why.

So, another interesting thing. I was sick last week (again) and had a really weird dream after I stayed home from school last Wednesday. Right after I published Ch25, I spent the rest of the day watching Marvel movies. That night, I had a dream Loki was demanding to make me his queen while Thor, Iron Man, and Captain America were laughing their guts out in the background. The others weren't there. It was awesome, but it was kind of weird. I told one of my friends about it last Friday night at Girls' Night, and she looked thoughtful for a second before nodding. And she goes all, "You could marry Loki. You could handle him." You guys don't really know me in real life, but I'm the sassy, snarky, sarcastic one in my friend group - I also act as the police officer. So I can see what she's meaning. (I remember all of this because I wrote it down right after it happened and saved it for a week to publish it).

I also had a dream this previous Tuesday that Benedict Cumberbatch as Khan had taken over the world, and Tom Hiddleston as Loki was trying to usurp him. It was like watching a movie! I woke up with a thrilled sense - and then my alarm went off.

~Cass