Trigger Warnings at the end.

The chapter title is 'Who Will Save You Now' by Les Friction, and is basically the theme song for 'Lies', so if you are going to listen to any of the chapter songs, this would be the one.

- "Pat," Clint moaned, feeling the hand beginning to move down. "No."

The hand stopped. "Are you sure?" Patrick sounded so sincere. "If you really want me to leave, I'll go…"

Go? What if he did? What if Patrick left and didn't come back, leaving him alone? Alone. Isn't that why he had begged to come back here? To be alone?

But you're not alone. You have Donnelly to keep you company.

No. This was better than Donnelly.

The fingers moved idly across Clint's stomach. "But I really think you need this right now."

Clint took a deep breath, slumping down and nodded, suppressing a shudder when the hand continued down between his legs.

Patrick wanted to help him... and Clint was letting him. Was it rape if Clint wasn't trying to stop him? He'd say no, move away, and sometimes Patrick would listen, but most of the time he just kept going, telling Clint that he wanted to help him. And he was helping, wasn't he? In a twisted way. He wasn't… he didn't… Donnelly hurt Clint. Donnelly raped him. Patrick… Clint could make him stop, be more insistent, tell him to back off. And Clint needed this… didn't he? The soft touch. The break from the torture.

Clint gasped and closed his eyes, resting his forehead on Patrick's shoulder, ignoring his shaking hands.

Yes. He needed this.

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When Patrick came in Clint knew right away that something was wrong. To start, Donnelly hadn't even come by yet. Patrick was breaking a pattern that had been consistent for… five months? Had it really been that long?

Patrick was clearly agitated, moving his hands through his hair, glancing at the cameras as he quickly came over to Clint.

A thought hit Clint fast, He's not suppose to be here.

Clint sat up. 'What's going on, Patty?"

"Listen, Clint, you need to give them something."

Clint blinked.

Patrick continued, "Something, Clint. Anything. It doesn't even have to be important. What color are the doors?"

"What doors?"

"In the Tower, at SHIELD, it doesn't matter, just give them something."

"Why?" Clint asked, thrown by Patrick's behavior. "Why should I tell them anything?"

Patrick hesitated. "The Avengers aren't coming for you."

Clint looked away from him.

"Clint," Patrick, growled, "You know this! You know they're not coming. I know you didn't believe Donnelly, but believe me. You heard the phone call, they tried to ransom you for money or information, Stark didn't bite. They haven't even come looking for you. I'll bring whatever you need to convince you. They're not coming. And you're not cooperating." Patrick let out a short laugh, "And that's admirable, amazing even, with everything they've done to you, but… they're running out of reasons to keep you alive."

Clint didn't react.

"Damn it, Clint! Don't give up!"

"I'm not giving up! Spilling my guts would be giving up."

Patrick put his face in his hands, his fingers curled, looking ready to tear his skin off for a moment, then he sighed, dropping his shoulders. "Don't die for them, Clint," he looked up from his hands, "please."

A shock hit Clint and he flinched as the door opened and Donnelly stepped in, "What do we have here? Did Hawkeye stub his toe or something?"

Patrick stood up straight, "No, but he agreed to talk."

"Really?" Donnelly leaned down. "That right, birdy? You ready to sing?"

Patrick was subtly nodding at him, trying to get him to agree.

Clint shook his head.

Donnelly smiled, "Good." He turned to Patrick. "The prisoner isn't going to need your particular services anymore, if you really want to remain on we've got another job for you."

Patrick tried to hide his surprise, "What?"

"You heard me 'Patty'," Donnelly shifted. "Unless there's a problem?"

Patrick blinked, his eyes shifting slightly to the camera high on the wall, then back to Donnelly. "No, no problem."

"Good. Get out." Donnelly demanded.

Patrick's eyes swept over Clint before he reluctantly turned away and left.

"Five months, Hawkeye," Donnelly said.

Clint knew. He always knew.

Donnelly moved around and picked up Clint's water cup, setting it down about halfway between Clint and the door. The he held out a laminated clipping, and Clint didn't know how he didn't see it before, it was a full sheet of paper.

"This is going to be the last one I bring." He didn't hold it up or gloat; he simply dropped it next to the cup and left.

Clint reached out but the chains brought him up short. Well this was-

Suddenly the chains loosened, giving him another three feet.

Clint hesitated. He had never been given this much leeway before. He reached forward again and picked up the clipping, turning it over and felt his world fall apart.

It was a tabloid magazine cover. In the main picture, Tony had his arms wrapped around Bruce, and they were kissing.

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"Should I be jealous?" Clint asked, after fifteen minutes of Tony going on about Bruce's contributions to a project.

Tony, oblivious to the slight tension in Clint's voice, continued to work through the 3D plans surrounding him, "What, of Brucie-bear? Well his mannerisms are adorable and for all you know we've been making out like teenagers in his lab."

Clint grit his teeth; he was going to put Nair in Tony's shampoo tonight.

"... but, alas, it would never work out, he's in love with a Dr. Betty Ross."

"Has anyone ever told you that you suck at reassuring people?"

Tony pinched his fingers, picking out what looked like a speck of dust, from the plans and flicked it in a virtual trash can. "That fact may have been brought up before. But seriously, he's pining for her like a tree."

"That doesn't mean anything, Bruce could go gay for you."

"'Go. Gay,'" Tony said, slowly. "Shouldn't that offend both of us?"

"We're bi."

"So wouldn't it be 'go bi' for me?"

"Tony," Clint cried, in exasperation.

Tony stopped and turned to Clint, his brow furrowed, "Wait. Are you jealous of Bruce?"

Clint refrained from throwing his arms in the air, and simply asked, "Should I be?"

Tony blinked a few times and waved the open file away. "I… need to catch up here… jealous of what?"

"I don't know," Clint said, looking off to the side. "Just… nevermind." He made to leave but Tony quickly stepped in front of him.

"Woah, no, not nevermind. I need you to explain because I seem to be missing something."

"You're not, this is just me overreacting."

"To Bruce and me hanging out?"

Clint was feeling like an idiot now and shrugged again.

"Bruce and I are friends, I'd like to think we could get some matching BFF bracelets in the future, but," he stressed, when it looked like Clint was going to try and leave again, "we're only friends. You guys are friends too, aren't you?"

Clint shrugged, "We don't really have much in common." Which was true, but they still managed to have entertaining conversations.

Tony nodded, beginning to understand, "And he and I do."

"You two would make more sense than we do and you're always so happy to be around him and you don't have to dumb things down for him."

"Hey," Tony said, sharply, "you're not dumb."

"I didn't say-"

"You think I have a crush on Bruce."

"Are you going to say you don't?"

Tony paused, working his jaw a little, then sighed, "Fair enough, I do. But," he continued, quickly, "I also have an unhealthy crush on Summer Glau's terminator character, and I know that ones not going to happen. Besides, with Bruce, it's a… 'guy crush' doesn't work here, 'bro crush?' Yeah, that works, it's a 'bro crush', kind of like you and…" Tony faltered, "anyone you might have a crush on. Crushes are normal, everyone has them." He became more serious, stepping closer to Clint. "Bruce and I talk science, that's all. I just want him to feel safe here, to feel at home."

Clint shook his head, "I'm being an insecure jerk, aren't I?"

Tony smiled, grabbing a handful of Clint shirt and pulling him even closer. "I'll give you this one, because, at least you didn't try and break up with me."

Clint smiled, "That was pretty insecure of you."

Tony leaned in and teasingly kissed Clint's lips, then pulled back, his eyes dancing, "You know, I've heard the best way to get over a crush is to invite them to have a threesome with you." Tony wiggled his eyebrows. "What do you say?"

"He's not on the threesome list." And yeah, they were drunk when they came up with that list. Most of it was fine but it was obvious they had been drunk since it included Baroness from G.I. Joe, who Clint still swore was created in the likeness of Black Widow, an Octopus and, well, JARVIS; who was actually Clint's idea. But as soon as he mentioned the A.I. Tony had started talking about modifying a suit, and then Clint wasn't sure, because that was about the time he had passed out.

"He doesn't need to be," Tony reasoned, "because the only way we could get him to even consider it would be if we already had Dr. Ross in on it; so it would be a foursome."

"Fivesome if you include the Hulk," Clint amended.

Tony smiled, "You kinky bastard."

"That wasn't a yes!"

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Clint couldn't breath. Tony was kissing Bruce. Tony had an arm around him, holding him close, fingers in Bruce's hair. It was hard and passionate. Apparently, both of the scientists had moved on. Clint felt nauseous, unable to look away from the photo. The headline read, 'Stark Love', then lower down, 'Stark says Size Does Matter!'

The light holes closed with a snap, leaving Clint in total darkness.

But he could still feel the picture in his hands and it was all he could see in the black empty air.

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Clint was fine. He was fine. He hadn't seen Donnelly for weeks, maybe. Or anyone else. Or anything for that matter, because the light holes had remained shut, never opening. Someone still came in, to give him food and water, and occasionally a soapy water bucket, probably whenever Clint was sleeping since he had never caught them. But that meant they could still see him in the dark; night vision on the cameras. He had to feel around for his water and food, and he wasn't always successful. He always found them, but there were a few times when he knocked over his cup, losing his water supply for a few days. The swirls of light that had begun to texture the darkness didn't help.

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Clint was fine. He started exercising more. He was very limited in what he could do before and still was, but it was better than nothing, which was what it was for the first month. He was gradually able to start very simple exercises, when he wasn't in too much pain; sit ups, push ups, squats; then add handstands, really anything to work out his arms… and to keep his mind from dwelling on where he was, and now, on the continuing darkness.

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Weeks. He was pretty sure it had been weeks. But there was no light, no way to mark the passage of time, and, damn it, Donnelly's doing this on purpose. Five months of knowing almost every second as it passed, of visits from Donnelly to remind Clint how long he had been here, that no one was coming. And now, just, nothing.

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Nothing.

No one was coming for him; or even searching for him. Why had he thought they would? How was he irreplaceable? Always, always, always too close. Why did he do this? He knew better than to let anyone in, but he always did. Because he was weak.

'You have heart.'

No, no, no no. No more. He couldn't do this anymore. Clint scratched at his chest. That was the problem. Loki had told him. He had too much heart. Too much. He let everyone in. He needed to get it out. He couldn't let them in anymore.

Tony's lips were pressed hard against Bruce's, and Clint yelled, his nails tearing the skin covering his heart.

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He was alone. He wanted to be alone. He asked to be alone. This was better. Better than Donnelly. Better than pain. Nothing was better. Was that funny? He was laughing more. That was a good sign, right? That he wasn't giving up?

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How long had it been now?

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The patterns of light swirled more when he looked at the floor than when he looked at the ceiling.

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There was a crack in the floor by the drain. He never noticed it before. How had he not seen it? It was right there. It was there now, maybe it wasn't there before. It couldn't just come into being though. Could they do that? How much control did they have over his cell?

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The crack was there. Even though he had never seen it before. He dug at it for a while. He fingertips might have been bleeding.

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No one was touching him. No one came. And that was good. He didn't… this was preferable. This was what he wanted; what he had begged for.

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He asked for this.

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The light from the arc reactor illuminated the room.

"I can still cover it up if it's keeping you from sleeping," Tony offered.

"No," Clint said, smiling at the way the light moved across the walls. "I like it, it's… nice."

Tony smirked. "You were going to say 'comforting' weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't," Clint denied.

"Is it becoming your security blanket?" Tony teased.

"If anything, the blue glow is creepy. It makes you under lit."

"Under lit? Were you talking to Steve about art again?"

"It's definitely creepy."

"You love it. It's your night light."

"It's in your chest, Tony, that makes it your night light."

"You love being wrapped in the warm glow of my heart."

Clint laughed. "Did you really just say that?"

"That isn't a denial."

Clint rolled onto his stomach. "Come here," he said, grabbing Tony's arm and pulling him closer, "I want to use the 'warm glow of your heart' to make shadow puppets."

Tony laughed. "That is so disrespectful. That's like eating cereal out of a Ming Vase."

"You're so full of yourself."

"I have every right to be full of myself, I'm amazing."

He had Clint there.

"Remember when you jumped off that collapsing building and the Hulk caught you but, because of the angle, he then had to go through the crumbling building?"

"You were freaking out over the comms. You-"

Tony cut him off, "I was actually worried about Bruce."

Clint started, "What?"

"It was twenty stories, what if Bruce got hurt? You saw the picture, we're in love. Don't get me wrong, Clint, you were fun while it lasted, but you knew I was just waiting for Bruce to be ready; to get over Betty."

Clint's chest tightened. "Tony..."

"Do you really want me to go over all of the reasons why I wouldn't want you?" Tony asked.

"No." God no. Please don't.

"For one, I've got enough of my own problems to deal with without having to take on yours'. I know Bruce has that whole Hulk thing and Ross is out to get him, but come on, Bruce is the nicest guy you'd ever meet. You? You shot your own brother."

"How did you-"

"You're a killer Clint. Everyone knows that. What exactly do we have in common, again? But Bruce," Tony smiled fondly, "We can spend weeks talking about one theory, we don't have to resort to lame movies or spend hours watching you practice with your bow. Do you know how boring that is? Point, shoot. Point, shoot. And it's not like you can do anything else. Oooo, you can aim, what an amazing superpower."

"Shut up!" Clint covered his ears and tried to stand, but Tony had grabbed his wrists and pulled him back down harshly.

"Romanoff didn't even come for you, she must have finally realized you two were even. You have no idea how relieved she is not to owe you anymore."

Clint threw himself back, but was stopped again by the chains. He blinked down at them, then back at Tony, but he was gone; Clint was kneeling in front of the the pillar. Had he been sleeping?

No. They had been in the cell together. In the cell. How had Clint thought that was normal? The first part had actually happened before, hadn't it? While they were talking in bed one night?

Wait, he could see the pillar. He looked up and saw that one of the holes was open, letting in some starlight.

He shook his head and looked around.

It was only the cell.

He gasped and faltered backwards when his eyes met Donnelly's.

The man was only a few feet away, studying Clint intently. After a few seconds he smiled. "Shadow puppets, huh?"

He leaned forward and Clint moved back closer to the pillar, feeling too confused to do anything.

"I think you're losing your mind." Donnelly whispered. He hadn't stopped smiling yet. "That's going to be fun." He stood up and laughed quietly as he left the room.

A few seconds later the light hole snapped close.

Trigger Warnings: rape/non con, sensory deprivation, hallucinations