A/N: Note - chapter 10 also was given some edits.

As soon as Bucky and Steve entered the apartment, May was there, helping Bucky to the couch. Rhodey looked on as she settled him down and elevated his feet. He looked absolutely horrible – his face was pale and sweaty despite the relative chill of the room, and he was breathing quickly, obviously in a lot of pain.

"Bucky?" May said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You still with me?"

Bucky groaned. "Yeah. Not sure I wanna be."

"Stay awake, okay? We don't need you to get more shocky than you are." May held up the arm and looked at the makeshift tourniquet, seemingly deeming it tight enough. "Steve, come here. Keep his arm elevated while I look at the wound."

Steve nodded, and sat on the edge of the couch to do as she asked.

Rhodey winced as May slowly uncovered Bucky's arm. The bandage – an old cloth, it looked like – was soaked with blood, and once revealed, the wound looked terrible. Peter looked away. Even May seemed uncomfortable. But hey, Bucky wasn't a walker. What Tony had done had worked. For now, anyway.

Bucky was breathing through the pain, his eyes scrunched shut. "Am I gonna live?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I - I think so," May said. She turned to the rest of the room. "Someone get me some water. Some for me, and some for him."

Rhodey went to grab a flask, and poured half of it into a cup he found on a shelf. He heard May still talking as he did so.

"Bucky, we're facing two main problems here. First is blood loss, obviously. We can try and fight back the shock by keeping you hydrated. The tourniquet's helping, too. But if we don't keep this clean, it's not blood loss that'll kill you. It's infection."

"Shouldn't this be sewn up or something?" Steve asked, grimacing at the wound.

May let out a breath. "Uh, yeah. That's the hard part. You can't really sew something like this shut without cutting more of it away. There's just not enough skin to do it otherwise."

Bucky lost a little more color in his face at that. "Oh, fuck," he hissed.

"Okay, that doesn't sound great," Tony said. "But you know what else isn't great? My wife in the hands of some crazys with machine guns."

"We haven't forgotten, Tony," Rhodey reassured him as he stepped up to May and handed her the water. She nodded her thanks, and passed the flask to Bucky while keeping the cup for herself.

"Oh yeah?" Tony snapped. "Then why are we still here? We need to go after them!"

"Because we need a plan," Clint said. "This isn't gonna work out well for us if we just charge in there."

Bucky cursed loudly as the water hit his wound. May just put a hand on his shoulder and kept going.

"Tell us what you know, then," Tony said. "Now's the time. Spill."

"Right." Clint ran his hand along his bow and looked up at them all. "We saw through the window when Pepper and Nat were taken. A group approached them – they were outfitted, but they didn't look military."

"Before you say something," Rhodey said to Tony, "There was nothing we could do then. There were five men there, and every one of 'em had a rifle."

The news didn't seem welcome to Tony, but it kept his mouth shut.

Clint continued. "The leader of the bunch – his name's Nick Fury. He's a bit of an enigma. Definitely the most manipulative man I know." He frowned. "But also probably the smartest."

"Sounds like a dangerous combination," Steve said. "How do you know him?"

Clint paused, looking uncomfortable. "We… worked together. Before." Rhodey didn't like the way that Clint was avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

"Like, he was your boss or something?" Peter asked.

"He was. Not my only boss, though."

Tony's eyes narrowed at Clint's tone of voice. "What kind of work are we talking about here, Clint? You've never said – what exactly were you involved in?"

Clint's mouth pressed into a line for a moment. "It wasn't illegal, if that's what you're asking."

Rhodey thought he could feel some pieces coming together. He had always wondered where Clint's mannerisms had come from. Or why he was so good with a bow, and not in the way a hunter was. "What was it, then?" he asked. "CIA?"

Clint's gaze flicked to him. "Something a little better hidden than that. But yeah, you've got the right idea."

"So… you were running some kind of special ops missions with this guy? Fury?" Steve said.

"No," Clint said. "Not him. He was too far up the chain from me for us to be on assignment together."

"It was you and Natasha, then." Everyone turned to where May was by the couch. Next to her, Bucky looked like he was barely following the conversation.

Clint nodded mutely.

"When you say ops missions," Tony said, crossing his arms. "What you really mean is that you were out killing people, right?"

"Tony," said Rhodey reprovingly.

Clint let out a mirthless huff. "No, actually he's got it pretty much on the money. Although that wasn't all we did."

There was a moment of stilted quiet as everyone took in what Clint had said.

"Well, shit," Tony blurted. "No wonder you're so good at this."

Clint turned to him, a look of barely concealed surprise on his face.

Rhodey understood what Clint must have been feeling. He'd faced a few uncomfortable silences as a result of what he'd seen and done in Afghanistan. He didn't blame Clint for being cautious about what they all might think, even though he doubted any of them judged him for it. Even if they would've before, the world was different now. Priorities had changed. And as much as Rhodey hated it, morals had changed some too.

"So what do you expect from him?" Rhodey asked, refocusing the conversation. "Will he… hurt them?"

"No." Clint paused. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, I don't know?" Tony said. "What does that mean?"

"It means I don't know!" Clint exclaimed, turning on Tony. "Fury's unpredictable! He's not sadistic, but he – there's history there, with Natasha. With him, I don't know if that helps, or hurts! And – he does anything to get what he wants. Anything. If hurting them got him something he wanted, he would do it!" There was fear in his eyes.

Tony visibly cooled, as he seemed to remember that Clint had someone caught up in this mess, too.

"But then on the other hand, they might not be in danger at all," Steve pointed out. "You say this man's unpredictable, but the weapons could have just been precautionary."

Clint shook his head. "I guess. But there's no way to tell from what little we know. And this new world – it's enough to make anyone unhinged. What does it do to someone who was already that way to begin with?"

They all sat with that for a moment.

"So… what do we do?" Peter asked in a small voice.

Clint took a slow steadying breath. "We go after them."

"Okay, but we don't know what's on the other side of that gate – let alone how to get through it," Rhodey said.

Clint bit at his lip, and turned to the window, before looking back again at all of them. Rhodey could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"We don't go through it," Clint said. "We go over it. Or – you go over it. The buildings are close enough together that you can jump roof to roof. But… I'll go through. As a distraction. And to see what's really happening in there."

"That doesn't seem like a good idea," Steve said.

"No kidding," Tony agreed. "What, you got a death wish or something?"

Clint shook his head. "Fury won't kill me. At least, he won't kill me right away."

"Ah, well that's reassuring," Tony said acidicly.

"Well, it'll have to be enough," Clint snapped. "We don't have a lot of options here."

Tony's answering silence was agreement enough.

"So who's going?" Rhodey said.

"Everyone," Tony said. "We'll need everyone." His gaze flicked over to Bucky. "Well, maybe not everyone."

"Don't worry," Bucky groaned, his face pale and sweaty. "I'm not going anywhere."

May looked up from tending to Bucky's arm. "And I need to stay with him." She turned to Peter. "You'll stay, too."

"What – no way!" Peter exclaimed. "May, I want to help! I can help!"

She frowned. "Absolutely not. It's not even a question."

"But –"

"No!" May said firmly, her eyes flashing. "Peter, this isn't just a supply run. These people aren't walkers; they can shoot back."

Peter clenched his jaw, his face flushed.

"She's right, Peter," Tony said, his voice gentler than Rhodey was used to hearing it. "You're good, but you're not prepared for all this. You'll stay here, and watch after them."

Peter's eyes flashed to him, and then to the ground. "Fine," he said gruffly.

"Well," Clint said, after a moment. "Let's not waste any more time. Whoever's coming, you've got two minutes."

As the others started to mill around, getting ready to leave, Rhodey grabbed Tony's shoulder and pulled him aside.

"What?" Tony said, seeing his expression.

"Don't you think," Rhodey said lowly, "That someone else should stay here? You know –" he jerked his chin towards Bucky, who was still lying on the couch, talking in low tones to Steve. "Just in case?"

Tony took that in, and then looked over to Bucky and back again. "No," he replied in the same low volume. "Peter – he can take care of himself. Especially if they know it's coming. They'll be alright." It sounded a bit like he was trying to convince himself.

"Famous last words," Rhodey muttered.

Tony's eyes flashed. "Man, I'm trying my best here," he said sharply. "Pepper –"

"I know, I know. I'm just saying."

Tony worked his jaw. "They'll be fine," he said again, firmer this time.

Rhodey sighed, and nodded. "Right. Well," he reached up and gripped Tony's shoulder. "Let's go get your girl back, then."

Tony smiled grimly. "Damn straight."

Minutes later, they were on their way. Tony, Rhodey, and Steve had gone up to the building's roof, while Clint headed down to street level. Clint looked up and caught Tony's eye. They nodded to each other, and headed out. Tony and the others would be jumping between rooftops, something made possible from how close together the buildings were. Obviously this had once been the downtown area; a main street.

Clint walked down the center of the street, feeling his senses awaken as they always did when he walked into danger. He heard scuttling, and wondered briefly if there were walkers nearby. Perhaps a couple had made it past the barrier.

There was no time to deal with that now, though. So instead he walked up to the fence and called out.

"Fury!" he yelled. "Open up!" He banged on the fence with a fist.

There was no answer, but Clint could swear he heard something move behind the fence.

He banged on the door again, this time with his bow to make it louder. "Fury!" he bellowed.

There was a gurgle behind him, and he spun, at the same time pulling out an arrow and nocking it. As soon as he spotted it, he let fly on the walker. It must have come from one of the buildings around. He hoped there weren't any more; Peter and May had enough to worry about.

As Clint leaned over to collect his arrow, a grating noise split the night, and the beam of a flashlight landed on him.

He stowed his arrow before raising his hands up appeasingly. It was hard to see anything with the light in his eyes, but he could make out a few shadowy figures in the doorway.

"Well, well, well," an unmistakable voice said. "Look who decided to join the party."

Clint dared to take a few slow steps forward. "Did you miss me, sir?"

Nick Fury stepped into the light, casting a long shadow towards Clint. "Honestly Barton, I can't say I did."

"Good."

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Well – you gonna invite me in?" Clint said finally.

Fury turned and gestured towards the door. "After you. We've got a lot to talk about."

Clint steeled himself, and walked inside.

Steve, Tony, and Rhodey watched from above as Clint walked through the fence into the facility. And as all eyes were on that, they took their opportunity to cross the border themselves, sticking to the shadows.

Steve could tell immediately that whatever this was, it was no longer a military operation. He'd seen enough of them to know.

Still, it looked organized, albeit small. Maybe it was because it was nighttime, but there weren't too many people wandering about, and there weren't too many guards. He spotted a lookout on the roof opposite them, and pointed him out to Rhodey and Tony.

They moved quickly, staying low and ducking out of sight whenever possible. Hopefully, they wouldn't even have to engage. If they were lucky, Fury would release Nat and Pepper, and they could all just walk out of there.

Luck, though, hadn't been on their side much lately. Steve knew there was a good likelihood this would end badly, especially with how Clint had been acting. From what he knew about the man, there was almost nothing that could faze him. But this guy, Fury – he did. That couldn't mean anything good.

They'd made it over another few rooftops before they reached a gap that was decidedly too wide to jump.

"Shit," he heard Tony curse under his breath.

Then there was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Rhodey pointing down at the cross-street. There was a structure there, something that looked like a cell or a cage – a room made of the same stuff as the fencing. And inside it –

"Fuck!" Tony hissed. "Rhodey, that's her. That's them."

"I know," Rhodey whispered. "What the hell do we do?"

Tony was looking around desperately for a way down to street level. "Come on, we gotta get down there!"

Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, just in time for a flashlight beam to shine where he had been for a moment.

"Nothing – just the wind…" they heard one guard say to another.

Tony was wide-eyed. The three of them sat in tense silence until the beam of light moved away.

"Christ, that was close," Rhodey breathed.

Tony made to move again, but Steve kept him down. "Listen to me," he whispered harshly. "Keep your head on straight. We can't make a move – not yet. Let Clint do his part, first. In the meantime, we think of ways to get off this roof."

Tony didn't look happy about it, but he nodded. And the three of them shifted to get a better view of the scene below.

Clint's heart was beating fast as they made their way into the militarized zone. Well, not militarized anymore. Now, it was Fury's hideout.

He thought of the last time he had seen the man. It had been after his last mission before everything went sideways. Fury had told him about plans he had for a new way of eliminating threats. For dealing with them before they even became threats.

Even after everything, Clint was grateful that that particular project had never gotten off the ground.

Clint looked around. There were a few guards stationed around, but it wasn't a large force. "What exactly have you made here?" he asked. "What is this place?"

"What does it look like?" Fury said. "This is a place we can get away from them. From the evil that's taken over."

"What happened to the people who started it? The soldiers who set up the fences and brought the gear?"

Fury glanced at him with his one eye. "Some of them are still here. And some of them didn't make it."

"I'm sure."

Fury paused and turned to him, and so Clint did the same. "What do you have against me here, Barton? We've always worked well together in the past." He gestured towards Clint. "I didn't even take your weapons. There's nothing strange here – just a safe zone."

"One that you've managed to get control of."

"Is that so unbelievable? I can't help that I'm a natural leader. People look to me."

"Are there even any civilians here?"

Fury smiled coldly. "In this world, there are no more civilians."

Clint stared him down, keeping his gaze level as he said, "I know you have Natasha."

Fury nodded, and started walking again. "I figured you'd be nearby. Romanoff tried to say she didn't know where you were. But when there's one of you, the other is never too far behind."

"Where is she?" Clint growled, stalking after him.

"Relax. She's fine. Although I had to put her in the holding cell – you know how she is. I couldn't trust her not to attack someone when I wasn't looking."

"You locked her up?"

"Her and the woman she's with. But I'll release them – as soon as you agree to listen to what I have to say."

Clint curled his hands into fists. "Bring me to her. I won't talk until I know she's alright."

"We're almost there. Just remember – she won't be going anywhere until we talk."

They turned a corner, and Clint saw the holding cell, a fenced-in area with barbed wire for a ceiling.

"Nat!" he exclaimed, and rushed over, stopping on the other side of the fence. "Pepper!"

The two women had been seated on a bench at the other side of the cell, but they rushed forward when they saw him.

"Clint!" Natasha said, her voice dripping with relief.

Pepper was there next. "You're here! Where's – where's everyone else?"

Clint put a hand on the fence. "They're alright," he said quietly, trying to keep Fury from hearing. "Or near enough for the moment. Are you two – did they hurt you?" he looked at Nat.

She shook her head. "Nothing. But Clint –" she got close, her voice almost too low to hear. "Fury's planning something. I know it. I'm sure you see it, too."

He nodded. "He wants something from me." He resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder. "I don't know what yet."

Nat put her hand over his on the fence. "Just – be careful."

There was a rattle to the right, and Clint snapped his head over to look. There was another compartment to the holding cell that way, and inside was a young woman, her back to them.

"Who is that?" Clint asked.

"We don't know; she won't speak to us," Pepper said.

Clint frowned. "Hm."

"Alright," Fury called from behind him. "That's enough, Barton. Now, follow me."

Clint glanced at Nat one last time, giving her a reassuring nod, before turning away and going after Fury.

They walked only a minute or two before Fury stopped in front of a building door and opened it. He stepped inside, holding the door for Clint to follow.

The inside was dim, with only a few candles lighting the way. They turned into the first room, which looked like it must have been Fury's office. It wasn't quite as neat and clean as he had kept his office before, but it wasn't far off.

Fury took a seat behind the large wooden desk, and gestured for Clint to sit down opposite. He did, settling down slowly.

"So what do you want?" Clint asked.

"I need your help with one last mission."

Clint crossed his arms and leaned back. "And why should I help you?"

Nick Fury shrugged. "I don't know – maybe our long history of helping one another. As far as I remember, you still owe me one." Clint held his gaze unflinchingly. "But, besides that, I've got some contingencies. Romanoff, for one. Your friends on the roof for another."

Clint stilled.

Fury chuckled. "You didn't think I'd gone soft, had you?" he shook his head. "Of course I knew about them. Really though, none of that should be necessary. I think once you hear what this is about you'll do it of your own free will."

"What is this about? Really, the suspense is killing me."

Fury took a deep breath, and leaned forwards onto his desk. "This is about something that can end this. Well, someone."

"End this? You mean…"

"That's right. An answer to the apocalypse."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"I've been in contact with a man in DC. A scientist. He thinks that we have something he can make a cure with. The problem is, he needs it delivered."

"And you want me to do it."

Fury smiled. "Really, I don't believe in fate. But it sure is lucky as hell you showed up. I wouldn't trust anyone else with this job."

"Why didn't you ask Natasha?"

"Like I said. I don't trust her."

"What about you, then? What's stopping you?"

Fury clasped his hands in front of his chest. "Having limited peripheral vision makes it best to stay away from walker zones if I can help it. And now, with you, I can."

"And how are you so sure this guy's not lying to you? What would give you any reason to think at this point that there could ever be a cure?"

What Clint heard next made his heart race, because it was impossible.

"That girl," Fury said. "The one who we have next to Romanoff. She's immune. Immune to the virus."

A/N: Haha hi everyone. I decided to write some more of this. And it might have a plot now? Who would've guessed?