Trigger Warnings at end.

I couldn't find an end for this chapter so it just kept going.

Coulson closed his eyes.

The pictures alone were horrific, but then add to that, reading the detailed, impersonal notes from the doctors about what was so very personal to Barton and therefore personal to Phil.

A year. Over a year of abuse. And, yes, it would be termed 'torture' in reports, but Phil wouldn't believe that torture alone could do this to Clint in a year. He had always felt that torture was more impersonal than abuse. They could be almost the same, but the difference was in the definition of abuse; to use wrongly, be it information or people themselves; and if anything, Clint had been used very wrongly.

The report said there were signs of past sexual encounters that were rough and most likely non consensual and… signs of recent sexual activity. Phil hadn't seen Clint yet, so he could only imagine where his head was now. He hated wondering if they were having to force Clint in the end or if they had broken him enough that he thought he was willing.

Phil felt sick. And then angry. He wouldn't try and brush this aside. He could be mild mannered, even appear uncaring if necessary, but not with this. He had found Clint. He had found other agents, but almost from beginning Clint was different, Phil took more of an interest in him.

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"I believe we can do that," Phil said, sitting next to Barton's bed in medical, pretending he didn't know the man had already slipped the cuffs.

"I'm serious," Barton snapped.

"So am I, Mr. Barton. You're not the first person we've brought in that wanted to disappear, to erase their existence from the world. I can't promise anything for while you were headlining at the circus, though. People will have taken pictures, newspapers in small towns…"

"I don't care about the circus, I was always known as the Amazing Hawkeye to outsiders, they never got my real name, I'm talking about everything before that. Everything. Birth and up."

Phil took care of it personally. Went to Waverly, flashed a discrete government badge around; he was skilled at being unremarkable, so people wouldn't think twice about him coming to the public records, the local elementary school, hospital and anywhere else something might have Clinton Francis Barton written down and either copied then altered the information or simply appropriated them for Barton's 'eye's only' SHIELD file. He had already dug into the archer's past, so nothing caught him off guard, at least not until he was reaching the end and was working through the foster records and then the brothers' missing person's reports. They had run while they were staying with Sean and Carol Walker. Sean's name had a notation by it which led him to a murder file. Five years ago Sean was shot in the head by a young man whom the Walker's used to foster. The 19 year old claimed that Walker had been sexually abusing him for years. Phil thought back to the fear in Barton's eyes when he had tranqued him on the roof and his hesitancy to strip down or let anyone near him in medical during his initial exam. Phil hoped he was reading things wrong, that Barton was simply distrustful, it would still fit with his years of being a mercenary. But when did anything go the simple way?

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"Where is Clint now?" Phil asked.

"Hulk's room," Bruce answered.

"Alone?"

"No," Tony said, "Natasha's with him."

"There was some trouble when he woke up and we had to sedate him again," Bruce elaborated.

"JARVIS?" Tony asked.

Yes, Sir?

"Is Clint awake?"

He is, Sir.

"Maybe it would be good to get you in there, Coulson," Bruce tried.

But, JARVIS interjected, perhaps you should speak with Mr. Odinson, before any decisions are made, as Ms. Romanoff has left that floor.

"What?!" Tony yelled. "Thor!"

Over the speakers they could hear sounds from another floor and then a noticeable sigh. "Anthony, calm yourself."

"Where the hell did Romanoff go, Thor?" Tony demanded, "She said she'd stay with Clint."

"She was with Clint when he woke, as she said."

"Where-?"

"She is finishing preparing one of the cells. It will be much safer to visit him if we do not need to enter the room."

"Safer?" Coulson asked, "Is there something we should know about?"

"Coulson," they could actually hear Thor's smile, "It is good that you are here. Natasha merely said to be cautious when speaking to Clint. He was… is, quite ruthless in what he says."

The room paused.

"Clint?" Bruce asked.

Clint would snark, tease and mouth off but he had always been more of a 'actions speak louder than words' kind of person in the end, which was funny when they thought about him being with Tony Stark, whose words and actions were both loud and obnoxious, and most of the time you had to look at his intent; or stick around long enough to be let in passed the worst of it.

Coulson sighed and pulled out his phone, "I'm going to go ahead and get Steve moved here while we wait to move Clint."

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Clint shifted his wrists in the cuffs behind his back and heard them click. "Magnetic locks?" He gave a slight twitch. "Always effective. Did Stark come up with these?"

"SHIELD standard now," Natasha replied, moving from behind Clint to his side.

Clint's face went blank. "Of course they are."

Natasha frowned. She hated not understanding. It was right there, she could tell, and she was missing it.

Thor firmly but gently grabbed the cuffs, moving Clint forward and out of Hulk's room.

"So where are we going, SHIELD?" Clint asked, "Did I wear out my welcome already?"

"Hulk's room is ineffective for keeping you." Thor said, "We are moving you to a holding cell."

Clint rolled the sudden tension out of his shoulders. "The Tower has holding cells now?"

Natasha kept her eyes on Clint. "Tony had them built for the sniper that shot you."

Clint stopped dead and turned to her, his eyes intense and… amused? "How'd that work out for you?"

"We never found him."

"You wouldn't. He was with me most of the time," Clint revealed, and started walking again.

Thor looked startled as he moved with Clint, then gritted his teeth and glanced to Natasha.

She stayed by Clint's side, keeping her demeanor calm. "And now? Do you know where he is?"

"It doesn't matter."

"We would disagree," Thor growled.

Clint turned his head as they reached the elevator and gave Thor a dark half smile that didn't reach his eyes, before stepping in as the doors opened.

Thor shook his head but kept himself behind Clint. "JARVIS." Thor commanded when the doors closed, and the elevator began moving down.

Clint, who was shifting from one foot to the other, froze. "JARVIS?" saying his name like he had forgotten the AI had even existed.

Thor and Natasha shared a glance.

Clint opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, looking down, before finally muttering, "E5."

Silence.

"E5?" Clint asked the ceiling.

Again, JARVIS didn't reply.

"JARVIS?" Natasha asked.

I am unsure of Agent Barton's intent. It is possible that the information was misfiled or deleted during a system check.

Natasha turned to Clint, "What's E5?"

"What does it matter, Romanoff?" Clint snapped, "You heard the computer, it's deleted."

It did matter, though. Everything about Clint's reaction screamed it.

Clint quickly changed the subject, trying to dig in where he could. "Should I be worried about you back there Thor? Every time you're around, you end up behind me. Jane not enough for you anymore. I mean, I'm not surprised, she's only human. I feel like I should be prepared. You have a rape whistle I can borrow, Romanoff? But I guess the Red Room never gave you one."

The doors opened, but Thor held Clint back. "I will take him the remainder of the way alone, Natasha."

He saw a slight falter to Clint's stance.

Natasha looked between Thor and Clint, "Are you sure, Thor?"

"I am sure. The Quinjet was arriving when you returned to me; I'm sure Steve would be glad to see you."

"Roger's survived? No one said anything so I was kind of holding out hope that he was dead," Clint snarked.

Natasha nodded to Thor and stepped back, allowing him to move Clint out and down the hallway. The floor was more simple than the others in the Tower, darker, looking more like SHIELD. They passed a clear wall that looked into a cell and had barely stopped at it's door when it slid open.

"Maybe I should have insisted on the whistle." Clint said, as they stepped into the cell.

"I would not defile you in such a way," Thor vowed, his voice tight, "And it pains me to know that others have done so."

"Defiled?" Clint laughed. The cuffs came off and he spun away from Thor. "We can go down that road. Let's talk about your brother, Loki, and what he did while he was here."

At Loki's name, Thor's face fell.

"Oh, he didn't get all touchy with me, Thor, give him some credit. But you should want to know about everything else. You apologized enough times to me, for him sticking his hands into my mind, that we both know who's really to blame for everything that happened. As the older brother, you're responsible for Loki. You swore that the Earth was under your protection. Could you have screwed up any worse? Hundreds of people died, why? Because you were a dick of a brother? He talked about you, you know, before you showed up, called you a fool; wait, no, he called you a sentimental oaf who could easily be fooled into doing what he wanted. And man was he right. You just walked right into his plans."

Thor didn't move. Didn't turn to leave or even clench his fists; he just stared at Clint in somber contemplation. "We have opened ourselves enough to you that you may use that knowledge to spear us with your words but you do not have Loki's way with them, Clint, and you have told me as much in the past. It is why you are not often sent in, to spy as Natasha does. At first glance you words are sharp and tear at what they are intended, but upon closer inspection you reveal more of yourself than you realize," Thor looked at Clint knowingly, and Clint took a step back. "For when you speak you give words to the sadness in your heart; a sadness that your fear has created. I would not begin to know of the fear you have experienced this past year, but I know it was great, for alongside that sadness is an anger that burns with a heat equal to that of Muspelheim. And so I fear for you Clint Barton, for I am acquainted with such anger and I know it is slowly destroying you," Thor took a step closer, "as it has Loki."

Clint seemed ready to attack, but his face showed uncertainty.

"But you are not him" Thor went on, "so I ask that you accept our help. If we could-"

"Your help?" Clint snapped, "Where was your help when I actually needed it, Thor? What were you doing when I was cut open, torn apart? Where were you then?! I'll tell you. Having team dinners, going to movies with Jane, you saw a chick flick or something, right?"

Thor gaped, "How do you-"

"You all seemed very distracted with trying to find me."

"If we had known you were alive-"

"'If'? You weren't sure so you didn't bother looking?"

Thor's frown deepened, then replied, slowly, "You believed that we knew you lived, but did not come for you?"

"Loki was right, you are a moron."

"We thought to dead, Clint. That you perished in the river."

Clint's mouth snapped shut.

"The ruse was clever, no one suspected that you still lived."

"So he was actually telling the truth." Clint mused, "No one was ever looking for me."

"Did you not hear me, Clint? We had no reason to believe that you lived. If we had known, no one would have stopped us from coming for you," Thor insisted.

Clint shook his head and turned away; ignoring Thor until he finally left.

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Natasha stopped outside Steve's room. "JARVIS are you sure you don't remember what Clint was talking about?"

I do not 'remember' anything, Ms Romanoff, I perform a comprehensive search of archived files and security footage.

Natasha frowned. "That's not a no, JARVIS."

There was a pause, then, I do not remember what Agent Barton meant.

Natasha's lips thinned but she left it alone and entered the room.

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Clint laid on his back across the couch on the common floor, his feet sticking up in the air, looking at the ceiling expectantly.

B2.

"Damn it, JARVIS! You sunk my aircraft carrier! I told you it's not fair for you to use your higher computing functions!"

I am not using them Mr. Barton. This is merely process of eliminations.

"You're processing bullshit, J. You'd be going down the rows for 'process of elimination'."

I believe rows go across, Mr, Barton, columns go down.

"Oh, there is no doubt that Tony created you, you smartass. … F6."

A miss.

"Goddamnit!"

If I may, Sir? You are concentrating your attacks on the center of the grid.

"I'm not-"

A hologram of the grid sprang to life, showing Clint all of his previous turns. And they were all near the center.

"What can I say? I'm a marksman."

That implies that you actually hit your target… Sir.

"I'm getting trash talked by a computer. It is so on, J!"

Clint rolled off the couch, heading for the kitchen. "How are Tony and Bruce doing? The conference got over, like, an hour ago didn't it?"

Sixty nine minutes ago, Mr. Barton. Sir and Dr. Banner were conversing with other scientists for fifty minutes afterward and will be returning in approximately 41 minutes, barring unforeseen traffic.

"Thanks, J." Clint said, opening the fridge, then stopped and closed it. "You're not telling Tony that I'm checking up on him are you?"

Only since he became aware of it seven hours ago and told me to inform him each time you made an inquiry. He seems to be finding it quite amusing.

Clint's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me, J? I thought you were on my side!"

I am always on Sir's side.

Clint frowned. "Of course you are, J. I only meant… I know Tony comes first for you."

And for you Mr. Barton? What number is Sir on your list?

Clint's eyes widened, "Uh… What?"

I believe this to be an appropriate time to determine what your intentions are toward Sir.

Clint laughed nervously, "Woah, J, are you giving me the Shovel Talk?" He was met with silence which he took as a yes. "Did you do this to Pepper?"

Ms. Potts was employed to look after Sir and had proved her capability throughout the years, before I had had the capability to do anything about it.

Clint's eyes widened.

Therefore there was no need to do so. Then as their relationship progressed, Sir made sure that her safety was prioritized in my programming.

"Shit, you actually have a list."

It changes depending on the circumstances, but, yes, I do.

Clint wondered where had Tony put him on it. Had he even changed it?

And, no, I am unable to give any further details about that protocol.

"Good to know." Clint sighed. "Intentions, huh? I've never actually had intentions for any relationship before. They all usually ended before it would get to that point."

And now?

"And now… and now I don't know, J. I'm still kind of surprised it's happening. No one else knows yet, you know? Not even Nat. Not that I'm ashamed of Tony or anything. I mean, I'm not, I don't know about Tony. I-"

If Sir is ashamed of someone, he does not make a point to sleep with them more than once, much less bring them to his actual bedroom and not the room for overnight guests.

Clint looked down with a small appreciative smile, "Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say. JARVIS gave the appearance of being every bit like the conservative and proper British butler he was created after but it was at times like this, when he was able to talk with JARVIS alone, away from the others, that Clint began to wonder how much Tony had tweaked the AI or if he had just seen a side of the man that had been reserved for Tony alone.

"Tony's one of a kind… I don't even know why… look you're making it really difficult to tell you why I may have doubts about this relationship without sounding like I'm questioning Tony's character."

That does not stop most others from doing so.

Yeah, Clint was aware. "Well I'm not most others. And while I usually take that as a good thing, Tony could do a lot better. I didn't get my GED until I joined SHIELD. At that point my reading level was probably around eighth grade. Tony earned a masters when he was sixteen. Do you know what I was doing when I was sixteen? Barely surviving in a circus. I didn't know that though; I thought I had a pretty sweet deal there, and it was, compared to all the shit before it. Then life got harder and I decided that killing people was easier than dying myself. What did Tony do when he found out his hands may not be as clean as he thought? He built Iron Man and dedicated himself to destroying every piece of his weaponry in enemy hands and refused to build anymore, not caring that it could ruin or end his life."

Sometimes it worried him how little Tony seemed to care about himself. People called Tony egotistical, and he was, to a point. Everything Tony boasted about was deserving of it. Clint could easily see a much younger Tony acting the same way, being loud, demanding attention, but never getting it. Clint felt bad for being thankful that Tony had problems growing up, but that meant Tony would very rarely bring up his childhood and even more rarely ask Clint about his.

"Tony's amazing. I don't want to hurt him, he's had enough of that."

Indeed Mr Barton. It is good that you do not wish him harm, because if you did intentionally harm Sir, do to my programming, I would have no choice but to view you as a hostile force and take the appropriate measures to ensure Sir's safety.

Clint knew JARVIS wasn't joking and he was glad. He remembered the blue haze. The complete certainty that he was doing the right thing, helping Loki. How he had tried so hard to kill Nat. "Good, J. If I ever try to hurt Tony I expect you to treat me as the enemy I am and protect Tony… he comes before me."

Duly noted.

Clint laughed, "I would feel a bit better if you didn't agree so easily."

If it came to it, I will protect Sir from you. That does not mean that I would find the task easy, Mr. Barton.

"J, for someone thats ready to stick his virtual foot as far up my ass as you are, I think we've moved passed 'Mr. Barton', don't you?"

I believe so… Clint.

"There you go, J."

G10.

"Damnit, JARVIS!"

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Yelling. Running. And then Steve's veins turned to ice. Finally, he thought, I'm waking up. This new life was just a dream.

But waking up was so painful. The agony continued on and on, his eyes never closed, but the freezing continued, cell by cell, returning him to the ice he would forever be encased in.

He couldn't move. The block of ice held him fast. People moved passed him and he tried to follow them with his eyes. Their faces were blurred but familiar. Was this where the dream had come from? Had he seen these people staring at him and come up with fantastic lives for them and just inserted himself?

Thor suddenly fell to the ground. Tony took an arrow to the chest. Steve tried to move, to yell at the distorted figure outside the ice as it shot an arrow through Natasha's neck. Another arrow hit the ice and the figure began chipping away at it. Up close Steve could see Clint's eyes, glowing blue, his yells muffled through the ice. Then he smiled and backed away, leaving Steve frozen and alone.

Steve gasped awake, bolting upright and shaking.

Bruce was instantly at his side. "It's alright Steve, you're safe. You're not cold."

It was freezing!

"You've got a heating blanket, wool socks, hot water bottles, and I've got some lemon honey tea here when you're ready."

Steve was still breathing heavily, but he halted his panic as his brain recognized the warmth around him. He layed back into the bed and pulled the covers around him; he was still shivering but they slowly began to subside.

He smiled sincerely at Bruce, "Thank you." He knew it was all Bruce's doing, Steve didn't talk to anyone at SHIELD about his dreams or how he very rarely felt warm. But the team knew and they always made sure that whenever he woke in medical, he had, at least, a heating blanket

He felt embarrassed at first but soon realized that everyone on the team had a wake up procedure. Bruce was told and/or shown what the Hulk had gotten up to, assured that people were fine, Natasha wanted people to keep their distance but to be talking, that way she would know immediately know who was in the room, Tony made a big deal while people casually fretted over him, Clint… Clint.

"Clint!" Steve looked around the room to Bruce and then Natasha and Phil. "Where is he?"

"What?"

"It was him wasn't it? He attacked us?"

Phil was giving him a questioning look, "Yes, it was Clint, but how did you know?"

Steve shook his head, thinking, "I honestly wasn't sure, but I thought I saw Tony get hit with an arrow and then while I was out, I guess my brain worked it through."

"We really don't give your super mind enough credit, Steve," Natasha praised, her face anything but happy.

Fourteen months they thought Clint was dead, they had mourned him and tried to move on but now a whole other kind of grief seized Steve. They had failed him. Images of Bucky falling from train flashed, unbidden, through his mind.

If I may. JARVIS's voice announced through the room. Sir was on his way to visit Agent Barton when Mr. Odinson stopped him, they are on their way here now.

"Did something happen?" Natasha began to move to the door.

I believe Mr. Odinson wishes to discuss something with everyone.

There was a quiet buzzing and Phil quickly answered his cell phone, "Yes?... Now?" He looked at the others as he continued to listen. "Send me what you can," he finished, lowering the phone.

They looked at him intently, knowing what he was about to say as he huffed in frustration. "There's an impending attack on the city, you've been called to Assemble."

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of underage rape