The Shield Hydra files had been released twenty-four hours ago. Every country in the world had set their intelligence departments to start sorting through them. Newspapers and news stations didn't know which to give more time too: the crashing of the platforms from Project Insight, the news of Hydra's survival, Shield being compromised, the involvement of two Avengers, or the discoveries already being made among the files.

Steve and Natasha had arrived at Avengers Tower twelve hours ago. Some place to hide out for a bit and rest up. It was late, and they made it to their separate rooms without seeing anyone else. Steve didn't sleep though. He lay in bed and thought of Bucky. Somehow, someway, he was going to find him. He was going to save him. Bucky had pulled him out of that lake, and there was only one reason why he would have done that. He was still in there, buried under everything Hydra had done to him.

Natasha didn't sleep much either. She pulled off her uniform and tossed it to the floor. She took a shower, changed, and then stood at the window and looked out over the city. She knew she was lucky. Shield had been her anchor once, losing it should have set her adrift. But there were more anchors in her life now. She only hoped Clint would be all right. He'd been in longer. She had sent him a message. She wanted him to hear it from her first. She hadn't heard back. She hoped that wasn't a bad sign.

Sometime in the late morning, after a few hours of sleep, she made her way up to the common room. Steve was already there, brewing some coffee. He looked tired, but trying to hide it. She wondered if he had said anything to the others about Bucky. Bruce and Tony were there as well: Bruce comfortably ensconced in an armchair, with a book, and Tony looking as if he'd just emerged from his lab.

"Hey," Tony waved. "You two have been having quite the adventure without us."

Bruce glanced up from his book. "How are you?" The concern was so clear in his voice.

She smiled. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Fine? You and Steve are the heroes of the hour!" said Tony. "There will be drinks tonight."

"Thanks but I don't feel much like celebrating."

"Here." Steve poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"Right," said Tony more serious, "I heard about Fury. I'm sorry. I know you'd worked with him for a long time."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a glance. Uncertainty reigning. Fury had made it clear certain things were to be kept…quiet.

The elevator doors slid open, and to the surprise of both, the question was decided for them.

Fury stepped into the room.

"Wow." Tony blinked. "Well that was unexpected and incredible timing. You literally never fail to surprise."

"What are you doing here?" Natasha frowned. "I thought you were keeping a low profile."

"I was planning on it. And then I found something that needed to be dealt with at once."

"What?" Steve came around from behind the counter to stand next to Nat. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes."

Nat recognized at once that Fury seemed both angry and determined. He was holding a file and he held it up now.

"These are print outs of some of the Hydra files." He handed it to her. "I stumbled on the information early this morning. Did you know?"

She frowned, flipped open the file, and began to read the first page, puzzled. Halfway down she caught a familiar name and she froze. She glanced up quickly at Fury. Her expression must have carried enough of her confusion for him to relax a little. Before there had been a dangerous edge to his stance, now it was gone. But the anger was still there. She flipped over to the next page, and then the next.

"What is it?" asked Tony, glancing between the two.

"It's Barton. Turns out," said Fury, "he's been playing me this whole time."

Steve moved closer to look over Nat's shoulder.

"No," she said flatly.

"I've already found enough mission reports to make it pretty clear."

Natasha shut the folder and slammed it down on the counter. "No. There has to be an explanation. Clint isn't a traitor."

"Where is Clint now?" asked Tony; his tone was careful.

"On a mission in Asia, at least supposedly," said Fury. He had been watching Natasha intently but now, he seemed satisfied and turned to Tony. "The files don't leave a lot of doubt, but the surface has only barely been scratched. As far as I'm aware, no one else has found these yet. I want the Avengers to find him before that happens."

Nat shook her head, "You're wrong. I don't care what the files say, Clint never worked for Hydra."

"It's in the records."

"I don't care! The records are lying."

"No they're not," said a voice from the staircase. Everyone turned. Clint was standing there. His expression was close to blank. Nat doubted anyone else in the room would be able to read it. But she could: she could see the defeat there, the exhaustion, and the devastation. It reminded her of when he woke up from Loki's control and asked her how many agents had died. She also noticed that while he was dressed in his Hawkeye armor, he had divested himself of every weapon. Even the hidden ones. She knew where to look. Only the most highly trained eye could have spotted them, or their absence, and only if it knew where to look. She had both. He had purposefully come unarmed.

He met her eyes, and whatever he saw there, made his mask crack for a fraction of a second, showing an even deeper layer of grief, before he pulled it back on and crossed over to the bar.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "What happened to Asia?"

"I came back when I heard the news about Shield. I hoped I could be the one to tell Nat…it seems Fury beat me to it."

Nat noticed that Fury's hand was hovering in the vicinity of his sidearm, prepared, just in case. She glanced toward Steve…she didn't think she'd ever seen him look this angry. It surprised her.

"Are you trying to tell us this is true? You're with Hydra?" Steve asked his voice tense as if he were trying to hang on to control.

Clint poured himself a drink and downed it. He stared at the empty glance for a moment then turned to face Steve. "Hail Hydra," he said sarcastically, the bitterness clear in his voice. Nat flinched. "Not that there's not much Hydra left, so ex-Hydra might be more accurate."

"Wow." Tony let out a deep breath. "I did not see this coming."

Nat crossed her arms, and dug her nails into her flesh.

"Did you know about Bucky?" asked Steve.

"Bucky?" Clint frowned, confused.

"Did you know Hydra had Bucky? What they did to him? That he was the Winter Soldier?"

"The Asset?" Clint blinked, at a loss, then shook his head. "I've never known who the Asset is. Whose Bucky?"

"Didn't know and didn't care," snapped Steve, turning away.

"How long?" asked Fury. "How long were you working with them?"

Clint stared down at his empty drink. Nat saw a flicker of reluctance in his expression, as if he didn't want to admit the truth. "Before I ever joined Shield."

She took a deep breath. He looked towards her. She saw a plead in his gaze, wanting her to understand, begging her not to hate him.

Fury swore.

Clint poured himself another drink. "They recruited me, and then introduced me into Shield. They thought I could get close to you," he said, glancing at Fury. "They were right."

"What about Project Insight?" Steve said, turning back again. "Did you know what Hydra had planned? How all of us where on their target list?"

"No. They haven't exactly…trusted me lately."

"Why not?" It was Bruce who asked the question. He had taken off his glasses and was studying Clint.

Clint shrugged. There was beat, as everyone waited for him to say something. There was nothing.

"That's not good enough," said Fury. "Why haven't they trusted you?"

Clint tensed and then appeared to force himself to relax. "Partly because of Nat. Ever since she joined Shield, Pierce…didn't trust me with as much intel. I was supposed to recruit Nat for Hydra. And I refused. Then the Avengers happened. I wasn't exactly as…informative about them as they wanted me to be. Pierce started to have even more doubts."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nat asked. She spoke quietly, but it seemed to ring throughout the room. Everyone else stilled.

He stared at her. "I never wanted to do that to you." It wasn't just Nat who could hear the shame in his voice now.

She knew at once what he meant. He would never have put her in that position. She owed him, she had a debt to pay, and he would have let Hydra kill him before he made her choose between paying that debt by taking a path she'd sworn she'd never return to or breaking her loyalty to him.

But there'd been another way, she thought, suddenly angry, you could have left them. You could have come to me for help.

"Even if you didn't know about Project Insight, you knew what Hydra was," said Steve flatly.

"Yes I did," said Clint. The mask was shattered completely now, the self-loathing evident. "Eventually."

"Eventually? What's that supposed to mean?"

"They recruited me when I was nineteen. I was lost. I was a kid with nothing to believe in and they gave me something to believe in. It took years before I understood exactly who and what Hydra was. And by then it was too late."

"It was never too late to come to me," snapped Fury. "I would have thought-." He stopped and shook his head.

Clint shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "So what happens now?" He opened his eyes again.

"Now?"

"Yes. I assume you're going to take me into custody. I'm not going to resist."

"No." It was Nat who spoke; spoke before anyone else even had a chance to form a thought. Fury glanced at her. She crossed the room towards Clint. "No."

"Nat…" Was he pleading with her? For what? To be taken in? Or to be let go? She honestly couldn't tell. She wasn't sure he knew either.

"You gave me my life once. You saw something in me that no one else saw, not even myself. So now I'm going to give you yours."

"Natasha," it was Steve speaking. "Fury found those files. Other people are going to as well and then they're going to come for him. We can't fight the law."

"I'm not saying he can stay here," said Nat. She glanced back at Clint. "Go home."

He blinked.

"Home?" Tony asked, curious. "I thought this was his home." Natasha ignored him.

"Go home, and stay there. Anywhere else, I can't guarantee your safety."

"Nat," he took a step towards her but she held up her hand.

"Just, go." She couldn't, not right now. The betrayal was too raw.

He stood for a moment, staring at her, and then slowly nodded. "I am sorry."

"I know." Her voice was emotionless, even Clint couldn't tell exactly what was going on inside her in that moment.

He set down his drink, and slowly, glancing at the others in the room, waiting to see if any would object, made his way to the elevators. As the doors slid shut behind him, Fury finally relaxed, moving his hand away from his gun.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Nat didn't answer. She knew how things appeared. She knew Clint had been a traitor, a mole, and she had never guessed. She of all people, one of the best spies in the world, had been completely fooled. As had Fury. And she'd just let him walk away.

But despite how much all the evidence seemed to point to the contrary, she knew, deep down, that she still knew what kind of man Clint Barton was at heart.

"Nat," Bruce had risen and come towards her. "Are you okay?"

She looked over at him.

Natasha Romanoff didn't cry. She had lost too much, had had too much pain, too much betrayal, for anything to reach that corner of her emotions ever again. So even though it felt as if a part of her had just been ripped in two, she didn't cry now.

She just walked away and left the room.

As the elevators closed behind him, Clint stumbled towards the wall. His vision was tunneling, his breath coming in short bursts, panic shot fire through his head. He'd kept so much compartmentalized and separate in his mind for so many years, and now a wrecking ball had come crashing through, knocking down walls that had gathered dust with age.

"…Barton? Agent Barton?"

He blinked. The blackness receding, his vision clearing. He found that he'd sunk to his heels on the elevator floor. One hand was gripping the railing above him, the other lay palm down on the floor, trying to balance himself.

Clint forced a shaky breath.

"Agent Barton? Are you all right?" Jarvis's voiced filled the space.

"Yes." Clint stood up. For a moment he wavered, his knees weak. But he'd forced himself through worse. He forced himself through this. "I'm fine Jarvis."

"Should I send for someone?"

"No!" The thought of having to face any of the Avengers again practically sent him back down to the floor. "I'm okay."

"….do you want to be let off on the floor to your room?" asked Jarvis. The words 'to pack' were left out of the question.

Dang. Tony really was a genius. He'd invented an AI with tact.

But there wasn't any need to pack. His go bag and his weapons were still in his vehicle.

"No, take me to the garage."

The ride down was silent. Clint spent most of it keeping his breath steady and his legs firmly planted on the ground. He couldn't quite wrap his head around how weak and tired he suddenly felt. It was as if all the strain of the double life he'd been forced to live had suddenly called in to collect now that it was all over. But he had to keep it together because he couldn't risk Jarvis overriding his wishes and sending for help, which the AI would be more than capable of doing if he thought Clint was in real trouble.

When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, he moved to exit.

"Good bye, Agent Barton." Clint froze, one foot out of the door. "Please do return soon." Jarvis's voice was gentle and kind. There was no resentment in it, and yet there was understanding.

"Thank you Jarvis."

As he walked out into the garage and towards his vehicle, Clint tried very hard not to face the fact that his life had just shattered into a thousand pieces, and even harder not to face the fact that he had only himself to blame.