A/N: Welcome back, guys. I'd like to give my thanks to Ky111 for another positive review on my last chapter :) which was a little slow, but for a reason. Also thank you for the 20 follows, it's mesmerizing. Okay, back to the story; the plot accelerates now, so get ready – Steve and Natasha are in danger…

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All rights to Marvel Cinematic Universe, etc.

Chapter 5

IF I DON'T COME BACK

"Beware the dark pool at the bottom of our hearts. In its icy black depths dwell strange and twisted creatures it is best not to disturb." – Sue Grafton

1

"What is happening to me?! She said those damn therapy sessions would help…" Steve thought desperately to himself, as he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He was hyperventilating and beads of sweat covered his forehead. He leaned against the wall of bathroom and closed his eyes.

Just a few minutes prior he was working out in the gym of the Avengers Tower, as was his natural habit, doing his favourite type of exercise – bag punching. It enabled him to train basically all the muscles used in combat and keep his serum-enhanced metabolism in check. He used to have severe problems due to muscular overactivity that kept him wake at night and always on full alert; it was Howard Stark who suggested taking on some kind of physically-demanding exertion to relieve the tension both figurative and literal one.

But when he was through the third punching bag, he heard an almost inaudible whisper coming from behind him. At first he thought it could be Tony or Clint, trying to pull another prank on him, but then he realized that neither of them had such unmistakable, foreign accent.

"Captain…"

The voice chilled him to the bone. The feeling of panic intensified even more, when he checked every corner of the gym as well as locker rooms and found nothing. He even asked JARVIS to scan the area, but AI found nothing, apart from the super-soldier obviously.

"CAPTAIN!"

Suddenly his training became much less enjoyable than usually, so he decided to hit the shower in his room and get some sleep. Steve got into the lift and pressed small button with a symbol of his shield. He exited the elevator and made his way straight towards his room.

He turned the hot water on, and leaned over washbasin, as he felt nauseous. He started to breath slowly and deeply, just as his therapist, Dr. Sallow from Brooklyn support group, suggested. After a few long minutes, fighting with his stomach, which decided to twist itself in every direction possible, Steve raised his eyes to look into the mirror. Its smooth surface was covered in steam, so he wiped it off with his right hand.

What he saw were certainly not tired blue eyes nor tousled blond hair. Instead he saw a shard of his past, he hoped would never show itself again.

"You are not real." Steve whispered in complete disbelief, his grip tightening and knuckles going white. ""You are not real!"

Apparition's smile looked like an incised wound. "Evidently not."

Steve screamed and slipped on the floor, hitting his head on the washbasin. Water mixed with his blood splashed on bathroom's tiles, turning into a disgusting brownish colour. Shortly afterwards he heard someone's rushed footsteps.

"Hey Spangles, you there? I heard you screaming!" Tony banged on the door. "JARVIS open this damn door!"

AI complied and Stark stormed in, only to find the super-soldier sitting by a bathtub, next to a shattered pieces of ceramic. Water was everywhere, because Steve apparently damaged the faucet while falling as well.

"What happened, Cap?" Tony asked worriedly as he spotted that his friend was bleeding. "JARVIS call Bruce. And turn off the water."

"Right away, sir."

"Come on, we'll patch you up." Stark helped Steve out of the bathroom, who felt as if his legs were made out of jelly. Cap sat heavily on his bed, while Stark pressed a rolled towel against the nasty cut on soldier's forehead. A little while later, Bruce Banner walked into the room with a med-kit and worried look on his face.

"What happened, Steve?" Bruce asked, preparing his medical supplies and putting on his glasses. Then he began to tend to Steve's injury, which was surprisingly deep and long.

It was Tony who replied, because Steve was still dead silent. "I heard Spangles yelling at something and then I found him in the bathroom, covered in blood. He hit his head, that's obvious, but I wonder what could have possibly scared him so much?"

Silence was all they heard.

2

A pair of black-leather military boots made no sound on a thick carpet. Tall shadow approached person laying on a disarrayed couch. The sheets were sweat-soaked just like the sleeper who was thrashing around, clearly troubled by some kind of a nightmare.

"Just look at you Rogers, you are so pathetic squirming like an animal! A wreck. After all those years you are still afraid of your own memories! My defeat at your hands, back there onboard the Valkyrie, is of no consequence anymore. Now I see… You think the Tesseract was only a source of unlimited power? No! Its power was way beyond the grasp of you and your stupid, pretentious nation."

The shadow laughed silently to himself.

"Seeds of darkness I sowed deep inside you, have finally sprouted! It is amusing to know you will pay for your insolence with lives of your so-called friends. Seventy years ago I took away your future and the woman you so naively thought you loved. And now, the redhead whore whom you grew to care for, will know this suffering as well. Are you ready for that, you disgusting laboratory failure?"

A loud thunderclap rumbled outside the window, causing Steve to abruptly wake up. It was as if he resurfaced from the depths of the coldest ocean. He was heavily panting for a few moments, trying to blink away the images of what he has just dreamed about. Or at least he hoped it was just a nightmare, because he could've sworn that someone was in his room just a few seconds ago. When his breath finally evened and the soldier calmed down a little, he sat on his bed, cupping his face in his hands.

It was yet another night, when he was plagued by nightmares. Another night, when he wandered through the woods, covered in snow, another dream where he was accused by a mysterious figure with fiery hair and ardent eyes. Steve wondered if this was to cease eventually, because frankly he started to believe the dreams were getting worse with each time, his head hit the pillow.

A bright glowing zig-zag splintered the shroud of clouds covering the night sky, its bright flash illuminating Steve's gloomy room. The soldier didn't notice a strange reflection in the window in front of him.

"It will be you who will hurt her, Rogers. Not me, not Hydra, but you. We won, Captain, you just do not know it yet."

3

It was a lazy Thursday evening at the Avengers Tower. the only residents occupying the communal floor were Natasha and Clint, who have just finished their work-out at the shooting range, where the mannequins were left, stuffed with 9 mm parabellum bullets and combat arrows.

The other teammates were either on a mission in Hungary (that is Tony and Bruce), in Vanaheim (Thor), in the office (Pepper Pots as you could have guessed) or out on a run (Steve along with his friend Sam Wilson). The spy and the archer could finally speak freely without distractions.

"So… you've got problem with your crush, huh?" Barton asked, sitting on a couch. Natasha lay beside him, her head resting on his lap.

"For the last time Birdbrain, I don't have crush on Captain Tight Ass. If you say this one more time, I'm gonna murder you with a teaspoon." The spy muttered under her breath, fiddling with a combat knife that somehow appeared in her hand as if out of thin air. He made her best not to blush, but a sparkle of amusement in Clint's eyes told her otherwise.

"I'm listening."

The redhead sighed, staring outside the panoramic window. "He's grown so distant and detached recently. I caught him losing it a few times, you've seen it yourself. He just starts to stare in space and turns off. I know he went through hell during WWII but still, he was stronger than most, even before serum. It was the only reason why Erskine chose him for the program."

Barton was silent, listening intently to his friend. As a spy, it was in her blood to be a perceptive observer; Natasha could easily read the emotions of others around her, especially someone like Steve Rogers, who was an open book in that matter. Well at least he used to be, until last events, during which he became completely unpredictable.

The archer started to suspect it was much more than just a simple concern about fellow teammate.

"On the other hand he lost his best friend and a chance for happy life, after the war… I don't know how to help him, Clint. PTSD is one nasty problem, he has to overcome it by himself if it is ever to go away." She added with a hint of sadness in her voice. "I thought he finally moved on, but he told me that after the Battle of New York it all came back."

Barton took a sip of his orange juice.

"Plus he became so mean recently, have you noticed that?"

"Of course I did, Nat. This Captain is not the one I know." He shook his head. "The way he treated Pepper and Bruce yesterday was just awful. I think it's time to call Nick. Or speak with him directly."

"Fury knows. If Rogers-"

"If Rogers what?" She was interrupted by an angry voice behind. "Talking behind my back again, Romanoff? Oh, and with Barton? How nice."

Clint and Natasha stood up, turning towards the soldier. It was a mystery to them, how he got there without them noticing, but one thing was obvious: to say he was furious was an understatement.

"Captain…" Clint started, but the spy cut him off, emotions taking over her. And that didn't happen often.

"Yeah, I am. Cause I'm worried about you, Rogers."

"As if I would believe that. Black widow has feelings, who would have guessed?" Steve snapped, heading back towards the elevator, but she jumped in his way, despite the fact those words ached, especially if heard from him. "I've heard enough and I don't want to listen to this anymore."

"You're not going anywhere, until we solve your problems."

"I don't have any problems." He retorted sarcastically.

"Bullshit." Natasha barked in response. "Some of us believe in defusing a situation, rather than throwing fuel on the fire. We need to talk."

His fists clenched. "Out of my way, Romanoff."

"Don't push it, Rogers."

"I don't want to hurt you." He said quietly, not looking into her eyes.

Clint stood there in complete astonishment, trying to process what he has just heard. Captain has never, never, spoken like that to anyone on his team before, especially not to Natasha. Barton was well aware of the fact that the super-soldier and the spy were good friends (maybe even more) and this new, unfamiliar Steve was something which terrified the archer deeply.

As if to make the situation worse, the stubborn side of Natasha's personality showed itself. She put her hands on her hips, an angry expression appearing on her face. "Try me, Rogers."

Steve's whole body tensed up. "Romanoff, move."

"No. Tell me what's bothering you."

"I don't have to tell you anything. Move…"

"No."

The next moment his hand struck with inhuman speed, sending her tumbling onto the ground. A blink of an eye later Clint grabbed his bow and an arrow out of the quiver, laying on the kitchen table. Its nasty looking tip was pointed at Steve's torso.

"I don't know who do you think you are, but nobody will treat her like that." Barton hissed furiously. "Not even Captain America."

"I didn't…" A shadow of fear crept appeared on Steve's face, but only for a fleeting moment.

"I don't care. What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Clint rebuked. "Huh?!"

Suddenly Steve grabbed his combat bow and crushed it in his hands. Arrow, equipped with a tip designed specifically to stun targets, fell to the ground. Hawkeye stared in disbelief at pieces of his broken weapon, but his attention quickly shifted towards Natasha, as he realized that she was hit so hard, she was still laying silently on the floor.

Captain, however, already turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Clint couldn't have seen a flash of red in his eyes.

"You will pay for what you've done to her, you fucking asshole! I swear it!" Clint yelled furiously after Steve.

The archer crouched beside Natasha and checked her pulse. She was unconscious but alive, thank God.

"Who knows what could happen if that fucker punched harder?" Barton thought to himself as he checked the spy for any serious damage. From his quick analysis he assumed she had a broken jaw and very possibly a concussion.

"Damn you, Rogers…"

He lifted Natasha and put her gently on the couch, trying not to move her head too much. It was imperative not to aggravate the neck injury she probably sustained. The last thing he wanted was to make Natasha an invalid, courtesy of a stupid accident, because frankly Clint couldn't believe that suddenly violent super-soldier did this on purpose.

"JARVIS, you there?"

The AI went back online. "As always, sir. Shall I call the ambulance for Agent Romanoff?"

"No, call S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Medical Department. I'll drive her there myself."

"Of course, Agent Barton."

The archer strapped a holster with FN pistol to his thigh, put on his quiver and black jacket. He'll get a new bow from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s armoury later. Then he scooped Natasha in his arms and took her to the elevator, down to the garage, located on one of the sub-levels of the Avengers Tower. He noticed that Steve's motorcycle was gone.

"You better run. I'll get you soon enough."

Clint put Natasha on the passenger's seat, securing her head, so it wouldn't thrash around during the ride. Then he sped off to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, where team of doctors were already bustling, so they would be ready to treat the injured spy properly.

4

After being admitted to hospital, Natasha was taken to a secluded wing, where she wouldn't be bothered by crowds of other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who frequented the Medical Department just as often as regular doctors and nurses. The other Avengers weren't informed yet of the situation and Barton intended to keep it until he did what he had to do.

Clint watched sleeping Natasha, who underwent a successful surgery to fix her an oblique fracture of her jaw. Also the cervical section of her vertebral column turned out to be slightly damaged, but dr. Mitchell managed to tackle the problem; the spy would probably need a rehabilitation but she would eventually get back in shape with no major consequences.

She was now in a comatose-like state and had to rest at least for seven days and that was more than enough for Hawkeye to find Steve Rogers, who in some twisted, unexplained way changed from a good-hearted Captain into a man with no moral compass whatsoever.

"Get well soon, Nat." Clint mumbled under his breath and kissed the unconscious spy on her forehead. "I'll take care of Rogers, don't you worry."

With that he ordered JARVIS (who had an access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers, regardless if it was the main HQ or the hospital facility) to close Natasha's room in case Steve showed up. Barton didn't want another incident, until he got the information out of the violent soldier.

Than Hawkeye visited his private armoury and equipped himself with a new recurve bow made of polymer fibre and extra sets of arrows, specifically those with stunning or incapacitating tips. Deep inside he knew that Captain's recent actions had an explanation; he just couldn't imagine how such righteous person like Steve could have done such terrible things knowingly. Still, Natasha was Clint's best friend, a sister even, and it was a matter of honour for him to protect her, even from fellow teammates.

Her rubbed his unshaven, tired face. "Damn, this is much harder than I thought."

An hour later Barton pulled over by a small, modest-looking building in Brooklyn. He glanced at a piece of paper, he found in Natasha's nightstand. The address was correct, so he exited his black jeep and was intending to head to the apartment number 9, but ultimately chose the fire escape. He climbed the metal stairs up onto the third floor and peeked carefully through the window. Steve was sleeping on a sofa, his sketchbook was on the floor and his shield rested on a bench in his hallway.

Clint sighed as he was definitely not going to like what he was about to do. After briefing, during which the archer made a point of telling Fury how aggressive and unpredictable the soldier has become, it was decided that Steve had to be brought for questioning. Barton preferred the word 'questioning' or 'interrogation' rather than 'arrest' but the truth was what it was; the archer volunteered to bring the soldier into custody, whether Captain would like it or not.

The lock clicked quietly and the balcony door slid open silently. Clint slipped inside, drawing a stunning arrow from the quiver he had on his back. He made sure to be in Captain's way, in case the latter decided to grab his shield, and flipped the light switch.

Steve woke up immediately, springing to his feet. He turned around and spotted Hawkeye, who was pointing a nasty looking arrow at soldier's torso; its tip would spread upon the contact with the target, releasing a non-lethal but immobilizing electric discharge. Nonetheless it was, to say the least, very unpleasant experience.

"Clint? Why are you pointing this at me?" Captain's voice was clearly confused.

"Why? Have you already forgotten what you did to Natasha?"

Steve's brows furrowed. "What?"

Clint's face contorted into anger. "Did you not remember what happened last evening?"

"I was out, running with Sam, then I returned to my apartment." Steve started to be more and more disoriented. "I took a shower, ate dinner and went to bed."

"Stop shitting me, Rogers. After you finished your run you came to the Tower and started an argument with her. Then you hit Natasha so hard, that she ended up in a hospital." Clint gritted his teeth. "I was sent to take you for questioning, and since you showed the true side of your personality, I've got means to convince you to cooperate."

"Clint, I don't remember anything, I swear. I would never hurt Natasha on purpose." Steve responded, a devastated look on his face. "If Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. want to interrogate me then it's fine. I'll go. Just tell me if she's alright."

Clint was silent for a few moments, until he lowered his bow. "No thanks to you."

What he didn't realize was that a hint of red flashed through Steve's eyes and soldier's expression turned from confused and sad to furious and insane, just like that in a nanosecond.

The only reason why Barton was still alive the next moment was that his reflexes allowed him to dodge the couch Steve literally threw at him. The piece of furniture smashed against the wall, crushing it partially. Clint turned around and quickly fired the arrow at Steve. It hit the soldier right in the stomach, causing him to drop on his knees.

A surge of high voltage ran through Captain's body, but he somehow managed to retain his consciousness.

"I… I will kill… you."

The soldier almost spat those words at the archer, whose face turned dismayed. Then he started to walk slowly towards Barton, but the latter didn't hesitate this time. Second arrow struck Steve right in the centre of his chest, effectively incapacitating him on the spot. Captain fell flat onto his face with a solid thud, still and unmoving.

"What the fuck?!" The archer panted heavily. "One moment he plays such an innocent, the second he's a beast. Damn, Cap, what's become of you?"

He activated his wrist comlink and switched to S.H.I.E.L.D. restricted channel.

"Maria, I'll need a clean-up crew here."

"On its way, Agent Barton. Have you been injured?"

"Fortunately not. Inform director that I've got America's ass in custody."

"Copy that."

Barton eyed the devastated living room and prepped for the real challenge, which would be taking Steve's unconscious body to the jeep and over to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Also Cap's shield had to be confiscated, nobody would want aggressive Steve using vibranium for wrong purposes.

Clint grabbed the soldier by his arms and started to drag Cap's two hundred and twenty pounds out of the apartment. "I'm starting to regret signing up for this one."

5

"Agent Barton, are you ready?" Nick Fury asked Barton the following day. "He has just awaken, Doctor Banner fortunately had means of bringing him back. That arrows did their job flawlessly."

Clint shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "I guess he deserved it, considering the fact he beat Natasha and tried to kill me."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I've seen some nasty cases of manipulation and mind-control in my day. Maybe he truly doesn't remember what he did to Agent Romanoff and you, let alone the yesterday fight in his apartment."

"I hope so." Clint sighed and opened the door.

"Let's find out, then."

They entered a small, square room, lit by three bright white lamps. Steve was sitting in a chair, facing a large one-way mirror, strapped to the table with titanium handcuffs. His eyes were puffy and sore and he looked like he didn't sleep for past sixteen hours after being hit with Hawkeye's stunning arrow. When he saw them marching into the room he bolted upwards, only to be stopped by heavy shackles around his wrists and ankles, which clunked loudly.

"Nick, why the hell am I chained up?!" He yelled, completely puzzled. "Clint, tell him I did nothing wrong!"

"About that…" Clint felt sadness and relief at the same time, realizing that the old Steve they knew, has come back – at least temporarily.

"So, Captain Rogers." Fury started sitting in front of the super-soldier who was now staring numbly at the table. "Do you know why I summoned you today?"

"I wished to, director."

"You are here Captain, because I've received information that you harmed Agent Romanoff and almost killed present here Agent Barton." Fury leaned forward, intertwining his fingers. "I want to know what's the meaning of this. You are one of my best agents and suddenly you end up in an interrogation room, like some kind of cheap criminal. I know you don't like it and neither do I, because I simply don't believe that such person like yourself, Captain, could have done such terrible things."

"How can I be judged on the account of something I don't even remember?" The soldier's voice was blank.

"That is yet to be decided." Fury said, carefully observing Steve with one eye. "Agent Romanoff reported the other day that you might be suffering from post-stress traumatic disorder, which would explain your recent actions and progressive aggression. Is this true?"

Clint took a seat besides Nick. He had to know what was troubling Steve, for sake and safety of Natasha, because the archer believed that the hell would rather freeze first than Cap would become a violent maniac. When the soldier opened his mouth, it sounded as if he had serious difficulties with expressing what he was thinking or feeling.

"I don't… I don't know… Sometimes I feel like I'm just a passenger, watching the events passing by. It's as if I am partially aware of what I'm doing but still can't control it. It's hard to explain, but that's what I'm currently feeling."

He rubbed his face and sighed tiredly.

"Listen closely, I don't have much time, who knows when it takes over me again. You must believe it wasn't me. I.. I have suspicions. Something is inside my head and I hear voices… Sometimes they take over and I do things I can't recollect, apart from some shreds of memories." Steve was talking quickly as if he was afraid someone would interrupt him, but the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Clint were listening intently. "Clint, I must ask you a favour."

"Anything for you, Steve."

Steve closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. "If it happens again, if I don't come back… keep the rest of the team away from me, especially Natasha, do you hear me?"

Clint and Fury exchanged worried looks.

"I'm not your Captain anymore, Clint. I hope you'll forgive me one day." Steve muttered quietly.

"Don't worry, Steve, she'll be safe. But you need help too…" Barton reassured his friend but the soldier was no more listening to him. He became still and apathetic, as if the whole discussion didn't take place at all.

Fury sighed and stood up. "I think that's all we could learn. Doctor Banner will carry additional tests on him, maybe that will shed some light on what we are up against. Until that time he will remain in confinement."

Barton leaned against the wall. "It's like, Steve, the real one, is trapped inside. He needs our help."

"Yes, Agent Barton, that's our priority now. The United Nations council will have to wait."

They were startled by a quiet laugh, so they turned around only to see that the normal Steve, whom they were talking to just a minute ago, was gone. This new one had smug, cruel smile on his face and a flash of red in his eyes.

"It's that redhead whore who will need your help. You better watch her, archer, you better watch her closely…"

A/N: I wanted to show the brotherly aspect of Clint's friendship towards Natasha and how Steve is starting to be consumed by the darkness inside him. Will our favourite soldier be able to fight it, considering the fact he no longer remembers who he is? See you next time. / WS