The warehouse was quiet. The men and women inside working, heads down. Everything had been tense since the fall of Shield. About two thirds of the workforce had already disappeared, gone on the run, or been shot in the attempt. Hydra didn't hold with deserters, even when everything was falling apart.

Those who remained where the determined, loyal, willing to sacrifice it all if that's what it took. Plans were being formulated, contacts trying to be reached, frantic desperation spurring them all on.

Relocation had to be a top priority, but where to? Every safe house, every base, everything was compromised. Everything was a gamble, a matter of time. All the files and information was out there: how long till they were discovered?

The answer was: not long enough.

No one heard the sound of movement above them in the metal rafters. No one heard the bow string as it was pulled back. Nor the sound of the first two bodies as they fit the floor.

But they heard the explosion after that.

By the time someone had reached for a weapon and gun fire filled the room, half of them were already dead.

An Avengers meeting had been called for six thirty in the common room, with some vague implication that it was a briefing for an upcoming mission. It hadn't really had Steve's style in it, nor Fury's. So Tony made his way to it with a healthy amount of skepticism and was not disappointed.

As he stepped into the common room, he saw that he was the last to arrive. He also saw that Pepper was there. His suspicions grew.

"What's up?"

"That's just what we were asking," said Nat.

Steve nodded. "Bruce? Now that we're all here, care to explain?"

Bruce shifted, uncomfortable under all the scrutiny. Pepper squared her shoulders and took over for him.

"We've made dinner."

"That requires an Avengers wide meeting?" asked Tony, raising an eyebrow.

"We are all going to sit down and eat together. The way you are all avoiding each other is ridiculous."

Thor frowned. "So there is no emergency?"

"Yes, there's an emergency. It's called 'avoiding the issue'."

"We're breaking apart," said Bruce. "We're this close to not being a team anymore."

"So you lied to us to try and fix the fact that we're breaking apart because someone lied to us?" said Tony. Pepper frowned. She recognized that tone. It was always so conversational, so pleasant, and always a danger sign.

Bruce sighed. "We didn't lie. We asked for an Avengers meeting because we need to talk about it. And doing it over food seemed like it might help…ease the tension a bit."

"I think I'll just get take out in the lab, thanks."

"Tony, please."

Tony had been in the act of turning back to the elevator, but at this he froze and slowly, dangerously Pepper recognized, turned back.

"You want us to 'talk about it'? Fine." The tone was sharp; he wasn't shouting, he was steely. "Here it is. I keep wondering what the hell is wrong with my judgment that this keeps happening? A man who was like a father to me, who was the only family I had after I lost my parents, literally sold me to terrorists and then ripped my reactor out and left me to die. And I never saw it coming. Not for one second."

Tony moved over to the bar and poured himself a drink. "And now a man I trusted to have my back, a man who was part of a team that to me meant-." He stopped, forced himself to breath, and took a swig of his drink. "He was lying the whole time. He worked for a group that had a kill list with me right near the top. And once again I never saw it coming.

"So you want to talk about it Bruce? You want to braid each other's hair, pour some chardonnay and share our feelings? My feeling is: I don't know, how to know, if I can trust any one of you, anymore. How do I know you're not keeping more secrets? Because I sure as hell can't trust my judgment, so how the hell can I trust all of you. So yeah, you think the team's in danger? I say were a long way past that." There was a long, still silence. He gave a brittle, humorless, smile. "So how was that? Was that enough talking about our feelings for you?"

"Only if that's all you need to say," said Bruce levelly, the only one in the room, other than Nat, who showed no outward reaction to Tony's speech.

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, I'm done. So if that's it I'm heading back to my lab where I actually have things to do that are productive." Tony began to walk to the lift.

"I have something to say." It burst out of Steve as if he'd been trying to fight it back and lost. Bruce glanced towards him and frowned. He'd never seen him look guilty before. The look didn't suit him and it filled Bruce with foreboding.

"What?" asked Tony, turning. "Want to do a whole big speech to try and fix this? Because there's no fixing this Cap. It is what it is. And what it is dead in the water."

Steve shook his head. "I don't want to make a speech…I want to make a confession."

If it was possible for the silence to become anymore stunned it did so now.

"If you're about to say 'hail hydra', I swear Cap…"

"No. It's…" Steve ran a hand through his hair. Bruce noticed him shoot a glance towards Nat who was looking suddenly on edge. "Look there's something I haven't told you. I thought not telling you was…I don't know. I told myself I was protecting you but I know I don't have that right and maybe I was just protecting myself because…look, there's no easy way to say this. When Nat I were on the run, looking into Hydra, when we found out how deep their reach went and how far back, we found out something else. Along with the murders they've done, they assassinations they've committed…your parents' names came up."

Out of the corner of his eye Bruce saw Pepper burry her face in one hand. He saw Tony go extremely still. He hadn't thought the atmosphere in the room could get any worse. He'd been very wrong.

"Excuse me?" The tone in Tony's voice was dangerous, sharp.

"I know I should have told you about it as soon as I learned. I just-…I let myself get caught up in things. In Clint, in…the Winter Soldier."

"The Winter Soldier?"

"Yes. I don't know…how much you about that yet." Bruce saw Steve was gearing up for more. How there could be more, he didn't know. But when the worse wasn't 'you're parents were murdered' you knew you were in trouble. "The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. He was my best friend. He was my family when I didn't have family. I thought he'd been dead all of these years but Hydra took him. Took him and wiped his memories and took over his head and made them their personal assassin, at least whenever they weren't freezing him on ice. That's what Sam and I have been doing. That's why I've been gone so much. I'm looking for Bucky. I'm looking for my friend. And…there's a chance…there's a real chance they might have used him to kill your parents."

There was a shatter as the glass fell from Tony's hand.

Tony stared at if for a moment and then turned. "No. No. I'm done here." He punched the elevator button.

"Tony-"

"No." He stepped in as the doors slid open and turned around. "Just no." The doors closed and he was gone.

Pepper let out a long sigh. "Well that went well."

"Are you sure you should have told him?" asked Nat, glancing towards Steve.

"I don't know. All I know is…I realized if I didn't tell him now and he found out later, we never could have survived that."

"I'm not sure we're going to survive it as it stands."

"Neither am I, but it was our best shot. Beside…it was the right thing to do." And with that Steve crossed over to the shattered glass, and began picking up the pieces.

Clint had left the warehouse far behind. It was full of bodies and destroyed equipment, none of which would probably be found for several days. He'd recognize at least two of the Hydra agents he'd killed. He's gut at twisted at that. But it was what it was. They had to stopped. They all had to be taken down. Hydra couldn't be allowed to rebuild and return. It had to be killed once for all. It had to be.

He pulled the car in the garage of the safe house, and went in through the back door, setting his bow and quiver down.

Blood was splattered across the quiver. He stared at it and forced his breath to remain even.

It didn't make sense. He'd killed plenty of people in his life: for Hydra, for Shield, for the Avengers.

He remembered the first mission. His hands had been steady as he'd pulled back the bow and watched as the arrow went flying straight into the man's eye. He'd been focused and steady as he and his team made their escape. But then he'd vomited out back in the alley once they were clear.

The team leader, an older man, who had a kind smile and eyes full of humor, had pattered him on the back, and assured him everyone did that on their first kill. That it had been a good kill. That it was the only choice. That doctor was engineering a bioweapon, on the verge of releasing it on the market. That they'd saved thousands of lives, that it'd been their only choice. That they, that Clint, were paying the price so that innocent people wouldn't have to.

And Clint had believed it.

Years later, Clint would watch that kindly, fatherly team leader, torture, maim, and kill the innocent. Men, women, and children. That kindly smile and twinkling eyes would take on a much more sinister edge, when the face was splattered with his victim's blood.

And years later, when Clint had more resources at his command, he'd looked into that doctor. That doctor had been developing an antidote for a bioweapon designed by Hydra. That doctor had a wife and children. He'd been a good man who had just wanted to make the world a better place. Clint had paid the price so that more people could die at Hydra's whim. That was what he had taken his first life for. That was the noble bloody mission he'd paid such a high price for.

That doctor wasn't the only one who'd met an end they didn't deserve at Clint's hands. Even as he'd slowly realized what he was doing…

He might have been able to excuse the past if he'd stopped then. But he hadn't, had he? In the present, Clint stopped washing the blood from his hands, and stared at the bathroom mirror.

Once the illusion had fallen, once he knew what Hydra was, he'd still carried on the assignments. In a way, those murders hung on his conscience more. At the time it had been hell. If he could have chosen death he would have. But he'd known by then it wasn't his death that he'd be choosing. At least not only his death.

Memories, so many memories, twisted in the back of his head, but one in particular floated to the surface.

"You didn't kill Romanoff. Fury gave you an order."

Clint shrugged. "He doesn't seem too unhappy with the results."

Pierce frowned. "Romanoff is an extremely effective agent. You chose to recruit her for Shield. You could have recruited her for Hydra."

Clint was prepared for this. He couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't explain that he'd looked at Natasha and seen something in her, a yearning for something more, for something good. He yearning he recognized in himself. He'd thought this through and come up with a story, and yet he could still feel sweat forming on his palms. He clasped his hands behind his back and set his feet apart. It gave the image of strength, of reporting, but it was merely a defense to hide behind. "Romanoff knew me as representing Shield. She needed something straight forward to believe in."

"She could be a powerful recruit for Hydra."

"She wouldn't do it. I gave her Shield. It's still a tentative belief system she's operating on. If I try to bring her to Hydra, that would come crashing down. I'd lose any trust I've built with her. And we'd lose her altogether. This way, we can still use her through Shield operations."

"Hmm." Pierce studied him. Clint wished, not for the first time, that he knew what was going on in that man's head. "And if I ordered you to kill her?"

Clint hoped Pierce didn't detect the flicker of doubt in his expression before he forced himself back in control. "Is that your order?"

"No. Not yet. There's time. Perhaps Romanoff can't be brought over just yet. But in time…how's Laura?"

Clint blinked. "Laura?"

"Yes. It's funny. She's disappeared you know. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that we like to keep tabs on the family of our agents, the significant others and close friends. But she, it seems, has left your apartment."

"…we broke up."

Pierce looked at him. It was a look that spoke volumes. He moved close, his face inches away from Clint's. "Do not lie to me Barton. You will regret it." For one moment, Clint struggled to think of anything to say and then Pierce was stepping back and smiling. The smile was almost worse. "She hasn't just moved out of your apartment. We've lost all trace of her. Now normally, I would have assumed in such a circumstance that things got ugly one night and an agent decided to clean up the mess himself. But you're not that type Clint. No. She's somewhere, and I'm sure you know exactly where. I'm not too curious where, at the moment. But don't for one second doubt I could find her, if I needed to. But I don't need to…do I Barton?"

"…no sir."

"Good. Keep an eye on Romanoff. I certainly hope she won't become an…inconvenience for us."

"No sir."

Clint took a deep steadying breath, trying to wrench himself from the past. He should still feel the dread that had crept through him, the certain knowledge that whatever he did, Pierce would be sure to kill Laura first before he finally put Clint out of his misery. It was how Pierce worked.

It had been selfish to even be with Laura. He should have ended it. He should never have started it. He'd been weak. He supposed that deep down, he'd always been weak. That's why he was here, where he was now.

But no more. He was going to make himself be strong. He was going to rip out whatever remained of Hydra. He would do it for Laura, for the people he'd betrayed, for the people he'd killed, and he would it for himself.