A/N: See? I DID manage an extra update this week! Yay? (grins)

THANK YOU, a million times, for your amazing reviews, listings and support! This collection is my favorite baby at the moment. It means a lot that you've chosen to join me for the ride. (HUGS)

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Awkay, because it's getting REALLY late… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

TAKES PLACE just a little bit after the first 'Avengers' movie, so the team's still in early stages…


A Lesson on Teamwork


Clint Barton had been created to survive. He'd been beaten down since he was a kid, in a million creative and varying ways, enough times to have that hammered as a fact into his evidently thick skull. Very few things had shattered him the way Loki's mind control and Phil's death did.

Yet somehow he found his footing again, even his sanity. He licked his wounds as well as a human being could after a trauma like that. He even became one of the Avengers although he couldn't even begin to understand why they'd need someone like him, someone who was… just human. But it helped, to have a goal, something to belong to, so he didn't question it.

Quite often, far more often than he should've because it freaking hurt, Clint found himself wondering if Phil would be proud of him.

Their team was by no means perfect, of course. Clint himself was a prime example of that. They all had trust issues, towards themselves and others. They'd been thrown together under the worst of circumstances with barely any time to get prepared for it and minimum introductions. They were no team, just six people with a huge amount of package who were trying to learn to tolerate one another's presence. Now, with the turmoil of New York behind them… None of them was quite sure what they were expected to do next.

They did remarkably well with action and near death scenarios – those were what they were used to – but this downtime was driving them up the wall.

It took a long time before Clint made his decision and actually joined the others, at that point in name only. He had no idea if he'd be able to actually pull it off or if the others would ever learn to trust him. Honestly, he would've been more surprised if they would eventually accept him. He remembered leading the enemy to right to the people whose side he was supposed to be on. He remembered, all too clearly, hurting Natasha and attempting to do so much worse. They took him along to New York because they were outnumbered and desperate. Now Clint was little more than sticking around, waiting for when they'd come to their senses and tell him to take a hike. He did what he'd always done best. Kept distance.

He kept his distance to Thor because it was impossible to look at the Asgardian without thinking about Loki, and the trickster already had a far too firm grip on his head, still.

He kept his distance to Steve because the soldier reminded him far too much and painfully of Phil, of how much the idiot would've loved working beside his idol.

He kept his distance to Natasha because if things had gone differently, even just a little bit, her blood would've been coating his hands. It was one of his most frequent nightmares.

He kept his distance to Tony because… Well, it was Tony. Brash and loud. Just like he was, once upon a time. Now brash and loud were the last things he needed.

With Bruce he didn't have to worry about keeping his distance. The scientist seemed to be quite well on the same page. They were both terrified that they'd lose control yet again. It was far more comforting than it should've been to realize that he wasn't alone with his fears and worries.

As first weeks, then months, slipped by Clint adapted. Settled to wait for the unknown. He wouldn't have been a very successful assassin without patience, after all.

Most people say 'know thy enemy'. Clint's motto was 'know thy ally'. If they planned on winning future battles they had to be familiar with each other's strengths and weaknesses.

The surveillance… was actually surprisingly comfortable. While the others sparred Clint observed them, making mental notes and calculations. Steve was their leader but before the Hawk could feel comfortable with being led he needed enough data. So far he wasn't impressed.

As individuals they were excellent. As a team… Not so much.

Bruce spent as little time with the others as was socially acceptable, clearly worried about having so many people close to the potential Big Guy outburst. Natasha… was Natasha. She was able to cooperate with the others but that was it. She'd just weighed her options and chose that staying was her best bet. Before meeting Tony and Thor Clint had imagined that he had problems with authority. Those two were born to deliver orders, not receive them. Steve was a born leader with a heart of gold but not a miracle worker. Those three were an explosion waiting to happen.

And Clint had never been accused of being lucky.

The surest sign of Tony being comfortable with Clint's habits was that the billionaire had built a massive, metallic perch close to the ceiling of the biggest training room. The Hawk could enter it through a special door, without anyone noticing if he so wished or to join the others down below. That particular morning Clint had chosen the former alternative. He was practicing target throwing with knives, listening with half an ear as Tony and Thor sparred below.

At first it was nothing overly dramatic. A lot of thrown hits, which on occasion made even Clint's perch shudder slightly. Tony teasing and taunting, Thor striking back with low, far more controlled growls. Until all of a sudden there was a palpable change in the room's air. And single name, spilled through Tony's lips, made its way to Clint's ears. It was a name he would've preferred never hearing again.

"… Loki …"

Whatever Tony said around that strictly banned name which was to never be spoken… It was a hit below the beltline. Something to not be tolerated.

Clint reacted. He had no clue what he was about to do – because in full honesty, what could he have done? – but he was going to try. He used a rope to slide all the way down, hoping stupidly that he'd be able to stop a disaster. His lips opened as soon as he landed gracefully.

Clint never got to say a word.

Because just then Steve appeared. This time the Captain wasn't even trying to contain his ever present anger. A lot of words were spoken but Clint didn't hear them. Because just then three things happened simultaneously.

Thor's hammer went down. Tony struck. Steve held out his shield. The energy field those things combined caused was horrific.

Clint was flying and for a treacherous second it was a pleasant sensation. Then he slammed against a wall. For a microsecond there was hellish agony. Then nothing.


Admittedly, Thor had done a lot of things he wasn't exactly proud of. But the moment Clint went down with a sickening crack… He was sure that it'd never stop haunting him. The archer lay absolutely still, eyes closed and growing paler at a horrifying speed.

Time stood. Then everything began to crawl on in a slowed motion. Tony and Steve were running, their voices oddly muffled to the Asgardian's ears. "CLINT!"

Thor had seen his fair share of fights and been in them far more times than he could count. Never, ever had the end of one felt quite like this. Watching Clint just lay there. That thin trail of blood… Was it coming from the archer's nose or ear? Thor couldn't tell. No surprise, since he could barely breathe.

Thor's whole body jolted when a shadow sped past him. He didn't manage to lower his level of alarm even when he identified that the arrival was Bruce, not someone who'd mean further threat. In a flash the scientist was on his knees beside Clint. The Hawk showed no reaction even when careful yet determined hands began to work on him. Everything about the sight was horribly wrong.

The words registered to him as though through a thick layer of fog. "… don't move him! … no idea how much damage … happened? …"

Thor felt every little bit of him grow cold. He recognized the feeling. It smashed at him with the force of three of his hammers.

This… This was his fault, his doing – perhaps not entirely but still. He was sent here to finally grow up, to learn to take responsibility over his actions, to become worthy. He thought he had.

He never learned a thing, after all, and now Clint paid the price.


Tony was acutely aware of the fact that he'd done a number of things wrong in his life. Small ones… And such he'd never forgive himself for… He quite honestly couldn't remember the previous time messing up would've made him feel like this.

He locked eyes with Steve and found similar emotions swimming in the Captain's eyes. The same guilt and sorrow. The same shock.

This was never, ever supposed to happen.

"We need to get him to a hospital, now." Bruce's face seemed unnaturally tight with how hard he was fighting to maintain his self-control. "I know that this building has a medical wing, but… It won't be able to give him the kind of a help he needs."

Tony was already calling an ambulance, his hands shaking almost as badly as his voice did. Later he had no idea what he said to the operator. He did know that he was louder than necessary. All he could focus on was that Clint was still horribly still. Too still. And although the thought sickened him he couldn't stop himself from wondering if he'd ever see the archer's eyes open again.

Then the paramedics were there. They seemed to work on Clint for ages before finally deciding that they either couldn't wait any longer or that the Hawk was stable enough for transportation. When they left the four men stayed there. They all stared at the mark on the wall Clint's head caused and the few drops of blood on the floor.

It was a nightmare and it was about to get worse.

After an undeterminable amount of time a one more person barged into the room. It was Natasha, who clearly made it back from a mission early. Her eyes blazed and it occurred to them that it was the first time they saw her scared. "What happened?" she demanded.


Natasha held her quiet until they'd told her the full story. And while they made their way to the hospital and waited. She didn't make a sound even when a grim faced doctor arrived with disheartening news.

Clint's back and neck took a heavy hit. They'd have to wait until the man woke up to see just how extensive the damage was. They were, however, the most worried about his head. There was swelling in his brain and so far there wasn't a sign of it going down. The actual amount of permanent consequences was anyone's guess. The doctor listed a rather impressive amount of other damage as well but by then none of the remaining team felt like listening.

Natasha didn't speak. Yet they all felt the explosion about to happen. And eventually the legendary Black Widow did combust in her own silent, deadly manner. She wouldn't look at the three shaken men as she growled. "We're not going to talk about what happened today now." Her tone suggested that she might've done something she would've regretted if they did. She took several deep breaths. Was she trembling? "If we're planning on being a team… Then we need to get our shit together." Steve had no time to scold her over using such language until she already went on sharply. "The team Coulson dreamt of… This isn't it."

No one spoke because there wasn't a single thing they could've said to that.

If they thought that her berating was bad it was nothing compared to what they were about to face. Because just then Nick Fury entered the room, his one eye blazing hellfire. "Miss Potts just showed me a very… interesting piece of surveillance footage. Thor… Stark… Rogers… With me, now. We're going to take a walk."

Under different circumstances Natasha might've felt a hint of satisfaction or amusement at the way Tony's face blanched. She didn't think she'd ever seen anyone appear quite so shaken and guilty. "No one will ever find my body, huh?" the billionaire muttered. There wasn't a trace of mirth in his voice.

Natasha nodded. She didn't seem to be joking, either. "Not even all Stark Industries technology."

Somehow the room succeeded in becoming even more quiet than it had been once the group left. For a moment Natasha and Bruce were utterly silent until the scientist stood and made his way to her, slowly and hesitantly. If Natasha was surprised when he took a seat beside her she didn't let it show. Without noticing it they both relaxed slightly at one another's close proximity.

Neither of them was the touchy-feely kind. Bruce didn't reach out to hold her hand. Perhaps it was a good thing. If he had they might've noticed that his fingers were still stained by Clint's dried blood.


Several hours later the well scolded trio stood on the rooftop of the hospital, ignoring the pouring rain. Usually it would've been Clint's spot. It felt befitting, in some brutal way, that they occupied it now in his stead. It felt like some kind of a penance.

"What happened today… It can never happen again." It was easy to hear how much the whole fiasco was weighing on Steve's heart. "If we want to do this, if we're planning on being a team that protects people instead of harming them… We'll have to do hell a lot better than today." It was impossible to tell which one of the three was more shocked by the slip of a tongue. The Captain was squeezing the metal railing surrounding the rooftop so hard that his knuckles turned white. He was staring at some unidentifiable spot in the horizon. "It's not going to be easy. But are you willing to try and prove Fury wrong?"

Thor only hesitated for a couple of seconds. Then nodded firmly, steel hard resolve in his eyes. "Yes", the Asgardian declared, his voice booming through the rain.

"Yeah." Tony didn't appear any less determined. "When Feathers wakes up we'll make him proud." Because the option that they wouldn't get the chance to do so was unthinkable.


The recovery happened in stages. Slowly. Painfully. Even if scars remained at least the open wounds closed.

Tony and Thor reached a silent agreement, a wordless apology. By the end of week two they finally dared to spar together again to let out some steam. This time no one was injured.

On that same day Clint's vitals were finally perfectly stable and his primary doctor announced that the swelling in his brain was going down.

A few more days later it was announced that they'd try and see if the archer was ready to wake up.

Three hours later Tony made a phone call. So what if his eyes were red and suspiciously moist? It wasn't like the person he was contacting could see him. "Dr. Cho, 'morning. Or is it evening there? This is Tony Stark, we met…" He might've grinned if he'd been a little less worked up. "Well, it's nice to hear that I made an impression. I usually do." He took a breath. "So… I've been thinking, and I have a job offer for you…"

It wasn't until after that Tony and Thor dared to visit Clint for the first time. Neither offered apologies because at this point they would've been useless. Instead they sat there and kept watch, trying to make up for the fact that they failed to pay enough attention when it would've mattered the most.

"You look ridiculous with your hair shaved off", Tony revealed to his unconscious friend, and his voice broke.

It took four more days until Clint finally decided that perhaps the waken world wouldn't be such a boring place, after all.

Thor was the only visitor in the room when it happened. The Asgardian tensed up and felt a momentary stab of panic when Clint groaned and frowned, discomfort loud and clear on his face. Relief caused a clearly detectable thud inside the hammer wielder when one of Clint's hands reached out, feebly but still, to rub the archer's face. Then the archer's knee bent, as though the man had been planning on getting up. No paralysis, then.

"Carefully, now", Thor advised, doing his best to keep his tone low. "You've been unconscious for a long time and your body needs time to recover. Don't strain yourself."

"Strain… myself…?" Clint frowned. Then, for the first time in weeks, those eyes opened, only a crack but still. It took some time before they managed to focus on him. The archer blinked owlishly. "What happened? 'Cause… No offense, but you look like crap."


Months of recuperation and physical therapy followed. But eventually came the day when Fury's sharp gaze was scanning through psychiatrist Melissa Chalmers' report. "He's ready for active duty, then."

Dr. Chalmers nodded. "He still has those occasional migraines and I'm afraid that they're something that'll never disappear. And I doubt he'll ever remember those two weeks before the… accident. But he's about as emotionally stable as he'll ever be and I'm pleased with his physical recovery. There's no reason to keep him off field any longer."

Fury sighed heavily and shook his head. A Hawk? Rather a cat. He wondered just how many lives Clint Barton had. "He's lucky to have a thick skull." It was said almost fondly, even if he would've never admitted it.

"Hmm." Dr. Chalmers hesitated. "It's the rest of the team I'm worried about. Are you sure…?"

Fury smirked in his own, knowing manner. "I am", he assured the physician. "It was a tough lesson but they learned it well. They know what to focus on, now." Now the team seemed to finally understand what they were fighting for. He could only hope that they'd never forget again.


A lot about the nightmare was a mystery to Clint. He had a vague idea of what happened, of course. And he saw that Thor and Tony still tiptoed around him. Steve as well, although not quite as obviously. They were all infuriatingly protective over him. He understood – how could he not – but he didn't like it.

While Tony and Thor tried to prove that they'd changed, that they weren't the same people who lost control anymore, Clint fought to prove that he was still the same, capable person.

Things would never be the same again, that much was obvious. Clint had been left with permanent health problems. Tony, Thor and Steve would never stop having haunting dreams of what happened. But maybe, eventually, they'd all come out stronger. At least they were finally a real, proper team. Now was the time to prove it.

Clint was more than happy to feel the whole team behind him as he began the preparations for the Quinjet's takeoff. This would be their first mission since New York as the Avengers. A turning point. "Okay, people. Last chance to back down."

"Never, Birdie", Tony fired back instantly, no hesitation in his voice.

"We're ready to do our duty", Thor announced as well and Clint could imagine the firmly folded arms even without peering over his shoulder.

"Yeah, we are", Bruce agreed, even if not quite as firmly as the others.

"It's a team decision, then." Finally Steve sounded relieved, at home. "Let's go."

As Clint finished up the preparations he felt Natasha's hand on his shoulder. Usually he didn't like being touched unexpectedly but now he leaned against it happily. Loki's ghost no longer haunted in the back of his head. His mind was fixed on the future, not past.

So yeah, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing in a team like this, why Coulson and Fury had chosen him. He didn't know what his role and purpose were supposed to be amongst such incredibly allies. Maybe he'd figure it out one day. Until then he'd enjoy the ride.

Until then he'd just live, with all the heart Loki once ridiculed.


End of oneshot


A/N: And whoever thought that having a heart is a bad thing? (smiles) Nine lives? Clint's got a hundred…!

Soooooooooooo… Was that any good at all? Or a lousy miss? PLEASE, do let me know! You can't even imagine how much your comments warm my heart.

NEXT TO COME…!

And then, a horrific attack gets to the very core of Clint's being. The physical damage is appalling. The emotional scar tissue is even worse… (M RATING! I'm already sorry, guys, this'll be a tough read… SERIOUSLY!)

THEN, in a three parter, Clint faces a surprising diagnosis that changes his life permanently. He's going to need all the help and support he can get. Will he pull through?

PLUS, a Farm accident puts Clint's life to risk – again…

Awkay, I reeeeeeeeeeally need to get to bed now. (winces) Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!


Guest 96: It feels so good to see how much he means to them, doesn't it? Because he DOES and I have a feeling that he doubts his worth too much.

Monumental thank yous for the review! Until next time.


Guest (1): That's so, SO good to hear! Gosh. I really hope that you'll be as satisfied with the next installment.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


Guest (2): (grins) I just really hope that the double update turns out worth the wait! I'm THRILLED that you enjoyed the chapter.

Colossal thank yous for the review!