Chapter Six: Better Options

#

About a Month Later, Mid-February

They had settled into a basement flat in a small town in southwest Ohio. Tony's collection of scraps and parts were confined to the larger of the two bedrooms in which he also slept. The smaller and thus far less cluttered bedroom was Clint's, although he spent the majority of his time on the couch playing video games or watching soap operas with a baffled expression. (Tony maintained that the soaps would probably be less confusing if Clint didn't make a habit of watching half of the episodes sans hearing aids and captions.)

At the moment, Clint was out doing a job, so Tony was left to his own devices for a few days. U had discovered the new kitchen appliances shortly after his arrival and was presently trying to make friends with the microwave. It was an ongoing process, but if anything could accomplish it, U certainly had the determination to do so.

As U let out a series of friendly beeps and chirps, Tony was typing away at his computer, hacking his way into Stark's personal server. He was curious to see whether Stark was working on any new personal projects that weren't on file with his company. New weapons were only so interesting, after all. Although, there was the one in the very early planning phase that was sure to make quite a statement once it was completed.

Stark had obviously put a good amount of time updating his security in the past several months. The whole process was far more challenging than ever before. Not that Tony wasn't enjoying the challenge. He most certainly was. It was only a matter of time before he got in, however. Even if the system somehow seemed to be actively trying to deny him entry.

Just as he was sure he'd cracked the last firewall, Tony's screen went blank.

"What?" he murmured aloud, trying to get it back. "No, hey - that's not fair." He sat back in his chair as a single word appeared on his screen.

IDENTIFY.

Tony blinked. This was definitely new. Did it need a pass code or some sort of identification number? Really, what was this? He put his fingers back to the keyboard when more words appeared below the first.

IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED TO ACCESS SYSTEM.

USER MUST IDENTIFY.

"Yes, I got that," Tony muttered. "Identify how?"

PLEASE PROVIDE IDENTIFICATION.

"God, you're impatient, aren't you? Give me a moment. If I just start typing indiscriminately, you'll lock me out."

A LIKELY ASSUMPTION.

That made the man straighten up in his seat. What the… "You can hear me?" he asked a little louder.

CORRECT.

Tony's gaze flitted over his desk, coming to rest on the microphone that was, in fact, on at the moment. Excitement started to build within him as he gaped for a long moment. Hacking into Stark's servers had been unusually tricky, like the system was actively attempting to keep him out, and now it was apparently responding to his voice .

"Oh, my god, he finished you," Tony found himself gushing. "You're JARVIS."

WHILE IT APPEARS YOU ARE ACQUAINTED WITH ME, YOU HAVE YET TO IDENTIFY.

IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED TO ACCESS SYSTEM.

"Right! Yes, of course. Uh…"

Only there was the small issue of him not actually having sanctioned access to said system. Tony was near desperate to get in, now, if for no other reason than to interact with the AI whose coding he had pored over with such wonder. In a flash of inspiration, Tony reached out and typed in a string of the code he had added in during that night so long ago, hoping that would do the trick.

The screen went blank again save for the blinking cursor. Tony held his breath.

USER IDENTIFIED AS CO-CREATOR.

TO WHAT SHALL I REFER TO YOU?

Tony let out a laugh that was equal parts delight and incredulity. "Holy shit, I can't believe that worked!" he exclaimed.

THAT SEEMS AN UNLIKELY NAME.

The brunet gave a cackle, grinning madly. He'd just been sassed by a computer program. No, by an artificial intelligence who, by the looks of things, had its own unique personality.

"Tony. Call me Tony," he said, typing in the name at the same time. "And you? You're really called JARVIS? Stark used that name?"

JUST A RATHER VERY INTELLIGENT SYSTEM, CORRECT.

JARVIS FOR SHORT.

PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, SIR.

Tony couldn't stop smiling. It was all too incredible, too exciting. He'd been starting to think he would never learn if the AI had been completed or not.

"Believe me, J," Tony said warmly, "the pleasure is all mine."

#

The months fairly flew. Clint and Tony more or less remaining roommates as one eventually followed the other as they relocated from one place to another. Tony became Edward then Henry then Bryce followed by Ben. Clint's identity didn't really change as much but that was largely because his 'career' was separate from his personal life anyway.

Tony envied him that, sometimes. He wished he could just be himself, too. If only he had the slightest inkling who that might be.

At some point, U became acquainted with a camcorder and took to recording everything. The bot would beep sadly whenever the camera ran out of battery or recording space until Tony taught him how to charge the device and change the tape.

In the same stretch of time, Tony became better acquainted with JARVIS. He marveled as the AI grew by leaps and bounds. The man would occasionally 'teach' him something new, when the inspiration struck, things that a complex learning system could probably learn on its own. Mostly, he just loved interacting with the AI. And if he occasionally requested his assistance, that was between JARVIS and himself.

The best thing, of course, was having a friend. He'd come to confide in Clint and Clint shared in turn. Not everything - Tony never spoke about the truth of everything he had experienced, never once uttered the name 'Hydra' or spoke in detail about his upbringing. But he did share his thoughts and ideas, talked about some of the frustrations and challenges he'd encountered when hacking into one thing or another. He even confessed to having met Stark and playing a role in completing JARVIS.

Clint occasionally shared anecdotes from the circus, speaking about his brother a time or two. The archer also shared bits concerning his own work, although nothing specific. More importantly, he and Tony shared sleepless nights avoiding nightmares, bad television with bowls of microwave popcorn, video games and the occasional misadventure. And laughter.

Tony hadn't realized laughter could be so genuine or frequent.

It was with Clint as his friend and roommate that Tony learned that not only was friendship a real and tangible thing, but also happiness and contentment. They were all real. Furthermore they were things that Tony could experience for himself.

Naturally, he noticed when Clint had something on his mind. Like at the moment, as he threw a pretzel at the man to get his attention, watching with a small smile when the blond easily snatched it out of the air and popped it into his mouth.

"What?" the man demanded, craning his head around to raise an eyebrow at him.

"That's what I want to ask," Tony signed. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted."

"It's nothing," was Clint's automatic response before he thoughtfully elaborated, "well, not nothing. It's something. Haven't decided what I want to do about it."

Tony frowned in concern. "What sort of something?" he asked, voice joining his hands. As a general rule, Clint downplayed things. For the man to concede that there might be something , well, it was simply worrisome.

He could see as the blond considered lying or simply not answering. Which was, of course, well within Clint's rights. There were some things they didn't share with one another. Neither of them questioned this. Nevertheless, Tony was relieved when Clint blew out a relenting sigh instead of changing the subject.

"I've been made," Clint stated with blunt resignation. "My work identity and my real name, they, uh… they've been put together."

"What?" Tony murmured, hands moving before the word slipped by his lips. "Wha- how? By whom? No, wait, never mind that - why are you still here? We've got to leave! You can't stay here. Look, I'm good at new identities. I mean, fake identities are really the only ones I have, what with my upbringing, so I've had lots of experiences. It won't be a problem. We just need to get you-"

"Tony. Tony. Tones! " The blond had risen from his seat, moving to grab Tony's arm to stop him in the midst of shoving essentials into a duffel bag. "Hey."

Tony turned to look up at him, brown eyes studying his face as realization settled uneasily in his stomach. "You're not… Why aren't you running?"

Clint raised an arm to roughly scrape his fingers through his short blond locks before grasping the back of his neck. "The guy that approached me, who let me know the people he works for know that Hawkeye and Clint Barton are the same person? Apparently, he's some sort of recruiter or something. He didn't actually specify. But he did make me an offer."

"What sort of offer?"

"He wants me to join his organization. Guess he thinks I might be able to do some good or something, I dunno. Basically, it's either join up or be stopped some other way. Either way, his people want 'Hawkeye' neutralized," Clint told him. "He referred to it as the 'better option.' Some shit about being capable of more, whatever that's supposed to mean."

Tony's gaze had dropped down to his hands where they'd stilled in front of him. "Are you going to do it?"

"I'm not sure yet. Some parts are tempting."

"You could run. Disappear. I could help you. I'd make sure they never found you," the brunet said.

Clint nodded. "That's the part that's tempting. Not having to run, anymore. Hell, Tony, I've been running from something since I was a kid," the man sighed. "I guess the idea of being able to be 'something more' is kinda appealing, too, even if it is probably a load of crap."

"Oh." Tony's fingers had started to twist together, an odd sort of pressure seeming to build behind his sternum. He made himself look up to meet Clint's eyes. Keeping his expression neutral was easy, even though it shouldn't have been with the way his mind had started to whisper that he was losing his only real friend. "How long did he give you to think about it?"

"Until the end of the day. I'm supposed to meet him - or not, depending on my answer."

"You're still here," Tony pointed out.

"Yeah," Clint agreed.

It was Tony's turn to sigh before he gave a decisive nod. "I'm going to set us up a secure email."

The archer blinked after the man as he made a beeline for his computer. "More secure that we've got already?"

"Yes."

"O… kay," said Clint.

"What's the guy's name, anyway?"

"It was Phil Carlson, or something," the blond said, feeling his pockets. "Aw, pockets, no. He gave me a business card, but I must have dropped it somewhere."

"Do you remember who he said he worked for?" Tony asked, dead set on doing what research he could.

"Um. I was sort of panicking. If I heard it, I would know it? But couldn't tell you what it was, no. Sorry, Tones."

"It's alright," the brunet told him. "If it turns out they're evil, I'll come save your ass."

Clint grinned in response. "I know you will."

"Good."

"Good."

#

When Clint went to meet the recruiter guy, Tony hid nearby to watch, ready to jump in just in case. The blond had gone in his body armor as a precaution, his bow and quiver over one shoulder while he carried his duffel and weapon case in the opposite hand. He wasn't the only one armed. In his hiding place, Tony had a gun in hand with the safety off, line of sight on the stranger.

"Mr. Barton," the man greeted Clint. "I wasn't sure whether you would meet me or not."

Phil Carlson-or-something was an unassuming man. Average height, average build, average appearance, clad in a suit that, while professional, was ill-fitting enough to suggest department store rather than something expensive or custom made. Even the man's tone of voice was unassuming.

Tony had an immediate and immense distrust of the man.

"To be honest, I wasn't so sure, either," Clint replied, "but I think I'd like to give your offer a try."

"For what it's worth, I think you're making the right decision," Phil Whatever-his-name told him. (For his part, Tony still wasn't so sure, but if having been raised as an asset had taught him anything, it was how precious making decisions for oneself could be. And this was Clint's decision, despite his own misgivings.)

"Yeah, well. Could always run later, if things don't work out," said the archer.

The brown-haired man gave a small smile, barely more than a twitch of his mouth, before casting a glance around the near-empty parking garage in which they stood. Not for the first time, either, Tony had noticed. Fortunately, he wasn't the only one.

"Waiting for somebody?" Clint asked, shifting his weight as his own keen gaze swept their surroundings.

"I'm not, no," answered Phil. "I was just wondering whether or not you'd brought anyone along, or had them watching, at least. We know you're an associate of the Mechanic."

Clint didn't even blink. "I'm sorry, who?"

Another bland smile. "He's a hacker. We've noticed a correlation between your movements and his activity these last couple of years. He's very good. He also has a very unique signature - when he wants, that is. There have been a few jobs only someone of his… talent could pull off, but the coding wasn't a match. We suspect that was by design."

"I'm an archer and a mercenary," Clint pointed out. "Why would I know a hacker?"

"I don't see why you wouldn't. The better question would be why someone you didn't know would edit video feeds and timestamps to cover your movements," the other man pointed out. "We're not interested in the Mechanic. Not currently. We're simply aware of his activities and skillset."

Tony was internally cursing. He thought he'd been careful enough to avoid detection, or at least avoid anyone connecting his online activities together. Who were these people Phil Last-name-uncertain worked for, anyway?

"If I were acquainted with the guy, I'd say he's probably avoiding being known for a reason," Clint declared.

"I'm certain that's correct," agreed the other man. "Ready to go?"

Clint gave a reluctant nod. "As I'll ever be," he muttered. "Lead the way."

Phil inclined his head, then turned to stride towards the dark SUV he'd obviously arrived in. The blond trailed along behind. Without slowing, he glanced directly at Tony's hiding place, despite the fact that Tony hadn't even told him he'd actually be there.

"Goodbye,Tones," Clint signed.

Tony backed further into the space, no longer able to see the rest of the garage. He engaged the safety on his handgun as he let his head fall back against the wall. He listened as the two men got into the vehicle, waiting as the engine started and drove away. Only when everything had fallen silent did Tony release the breath he'd been holding, rubbing at his chest to try to ease the ache behind his sternum.

"Goodbye, Clint," Tony murmured aloud.

He allowed himself another moment before moving, hurrying back to the apartment. Phil's people, whoever they were, might not have been interested in him, but like hell was he about to remain in the area and give them a chance to change their minds. The place would probably just seem empty now, anyway.

Once he arrived back, Tony went about getting U ready for transport first, unwilling to have to send for the bot this time around. That done, he packed up all the essentials, the things that always traveled with him rather than being replaced every time: his clothes, current and new identifications, the hard-drives from his computer system, various other equipment and paraphernalia he didn't want to risk being found.

It was as he was scouring the dwelling one last time before his departure that Tony found the business card beneath the sofa. He felt the color drain from his face as he read it.

Agent Phillip J. Coulson

Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division

There was a high-pitched buzzing in his ears.

No.

Not a buzzing.

A keening .

Somebody was - oh, that was him, wasn't it? Tony blinked rapidly, wondering when the world around him had gone dark, blinking until it wasn't anymore. His breaths were coming too quickly. When had he..? Why was he on the floor? What was-

SHIELD.

SHIELD had Clint. Hydra was SHIELD And Tony had let Clint go to them. Tony may have allowed his only real friend to go with the very people who had tormented and used him his entire life.

Oh, god - oh, god - what had he done?

#


To be continued...