Chapter 31: Self-Destruct

October 6

Howlett Manor

While Logan was recovering, Hill gathered up the rest of the kids that had wanted to help with any emergent rescue missions. Logan had insisted that he had a pilot lined up — that was not Agent Melinda May — so instead, she asked May to join her for the second team going into the Capitol.

Just because it wasn't the group of Tahiti kids that had gone in for Clint that had been captured didn't mean that she wasn't going to push to get them out. There was no reason for them to be held. They'd broken no laws, they hadn't done a thing to lose their freedom, and SHIELD wasn't going to let anyone hold those kids without probable cause more hefty than existing.

Naturally, Wilson and Wagner had insisted on joining in the rescue mission, even before it was announced who it was that Osborn had caught. Her only addition to that team was Peter Quill, who had felt badly that he was unable to do more during the election to help the cause.

"The plan is still the same," Hill said. "Your mission is to go after Barton. We're not entirely sure which of the locations in Oscorp is holding him — or the others — so I want you all to be familiar with what seems to be their capture protocol."

The group as a whole nodded along as Hill spoke, and it wasn't until partway through that Quill felt compelled to raise his hand.

"Yeah, one question? Where exactly are Logan and Romanoff?" Quill said. "Weren't they all… gung-ho on getting Hawkeye back?"

Hill let out a patient breath as she folded her hands in front of her and focused on him. "They are — but they'll be on a different team to access the other position we think that prisoners are being held at this particular location. It's a fairly large compound, and we need to cover it fast and get out just as fast if it's a bust."

"Alright, but who's on that team?" Quill asked.

"Right now? Logan, Romanoff, and Morse."

"I can pilot for them," Quill offered. "They need a pilot."

"Logan said he had someone in mind," Hill said, brushing him off and going back to the plan.

"No offense? But there's nothing but girls on his team. If he gets shot again, he's going to be left behind. Or all of them will be caught. It's not a 'no girls allowed thing," he added quickly. "I mean the guy's heavy for his size."

"I'm sure the pilot he's chosen will be helpful in that," Hill said with a little heat to her tone.

"Don't count on it," Quill muttered half under his breath — though the only one that seemed to have picked it up was Kurt, who was frowning deeply at the commentary.

As soon as Logan was upright on his own and making positive progress forward, he gave his wife a kiss and headed up the stairs alone, having brushed both the Wagners and Peter Parker off on his way. He had one person he really wanted on this mission, and he knew he needed to be the one to ask.

He raised his hand to knock at the door, though his presence was already known; the wolf on the other side of the door was growling lightly. The corner of his mouth tightened as he tipped his face downward, listening to the footsteps on the other side.

Scott opened the door with a smile caught on his features, then froze as Logan looked up at him with his face still downturned. "Gotta ask you a favor. I hate to break up the fun — and you can say no, of course," Logan said as Ella bounded back to Clara. "But I need a pilot, and you're the only name on my list."

"What's the mission?" Scott asked as he watched Logan.

"We're gonna rescue a few freshly arrested Tahiti kids, and if we can manage it? Clint Barton," Logan told him. "One of the guys that worked me over with Viper's got a hold of him, and he's going to do the same to the others if we don't get them out." He shook his head lightly. "I don't know how much…" He stopped himself and shook his head harder. "We gotta get them out quick."

Scott frowned deeply "Yeah, of course. When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're ready. Hill will do the briefing on our way out," Logan said before he turned to walk away — though Scott was watching him go. "Oh, and Slim ... thanks."

Something like a smirk crossed Scott's face before he nodded and then stepped back into the room — this time to change and get ready.

Hill's briefing was a quick one, and as they headed to the hangar, the teams split off to their separate planes. Wade and Kurt shared a look as Logan stepped over to the jet with Natasha and Bobbi — and Scott. It was clear that they didn't think that it was a great lineup — at least, not without someone big enough to haul Logan back if Osborn went after him again, and Scott was only piloting.

The two teams were halfway to the planes when Bobbi called for a full stop, waving for them to come back to her. "Since we're not sure who's going to find what, I think you should be prepared for what you might find."

Logan bristled and tapped Scott's shoulder. "You're piloting. You don't need to know this crap. C'mon."

Scott shrugged him off. "Hey, if things go wrong, I'm your backup too."

"It's not gonna go wrong."

"Right, that's what everyone says before things go wrong," Scott said with a dry look.

Bobbi was just waiting … watching the quiet conversation between the two of them before Logan let out a muttered curse and headed to the jet alone, his mood nose diving into flat-out rotten before they could even get their wheels up.

He looked around the jet once he got inside and very nearly growled out his frustration before he decided to just drop into the copilot chair and wait. At least he could count on the fact that once Scott got his earful from Bobbi, he wouldn't be stupid enough to try to talk to him about it.

When Scott did finally drop into the pilot's seat, he looked slightly wide-eyed and shot a sidelong glance Logan's way, but that was the extent of it before he busied himself getting the jet prepped, not saying anything until he called back to the girls to let them know they were ready to leave.

By that time, it was late enough that they'd have the cover of darkness as well as the rest of Stark's stealth tech to cover their approach into Marvel, though considering how the last run had gone, Skye had insisted on updating all the cameras and outfitting the plane with a few new programs that would supposedly help get them back from a blackout faster.

The flight was thankfully quiet all the way out to the Capitol, though that suddenly became a little less comforting when they made their approach and Scott wordlessly switched off the lights the closer they got to where Osborn's hideout was.

Logan glanced his way with a little frown, though when Scott's eyes seemed to light up with actual red light, he had to raise an eyebrow and turn his attention outside — where he absolutely couldn't see a damn thing. A shadow went past the window — obviously a tall building — but Logan couldn't see it until they were on top of it. He found himself shaking his head as Scott carefully piloted them to what in daylight amounted to a tricky landing at best.

He couldn't help but shake his head as the wheels touched down lightly in the pitch blackness. "Damn, that's cool."

Scott shot him an honest grin. "Talk to Fitz. His idea."

"It suits you," Logan said as he got to his feet and headed toward the girls, already itching for a fight.

Natasha was clearly of the same mind, and she tipped her head to the door as soon as Logan was there. "You want me to hold the door?" she asked with almost a smirk.

"Just don't stand behind it and you'll be just fine," Logan shot back. "Stay close — unless you wanna split up, then I don't know nothin' about it."

She smirked. "Let's stick close — unless we find Clint, and then I'm not making any promises."

Bobbi rolled her eyes at the pair of them as the three of them headed into the building, the landing site close enough that they were able to slip in under the radar easily.

Logan led the charge, watching for the cameras that he knew were stationed along the halls and corners once they were inside. The pattern of movement that the cameras had was the same on every floor, and Logan counted it out quickly as they moved from one spot to the next, avoiding them outright.

They went up floor by floor until Logan froze and listened hard, distracted by the sound of what could have been a mountain stream. "This is the right one," he whispered to the two of them through his teeth. He paused for just a second more before he tipped his head suddenly, looking for the cameras. The pattern was a little different on that floor than the ones before it, but Logan was in no mood — and after a moment he just popped a claw, sliced through the lock and kicked the door in.

He darted in before either of the others knew what it was he had in mind — though it became apparent when a tall, slim man with white hair and glasses nearly came out of his skin as Logan got a hold of him and threw him against a wall.

Natasha and Bobbi were right behind him, and while Natasha looked for a second like she wanted to help Logan tear the guy apart, she was forced to deal with the guards instead — especially since Bobbi was distracted fighting her way through to get close enough to cut loose Whitehall's current subject: a terrified-looking Steve Rogers.

"Where is Barton?" Logan growled out, shaking in rage as the girls kept the guards at bay. When he didn't answer quick enough, a ringing snikt echoed the room, and Bobbi turned to see that he'd popped two claws — one on either side of Whitehall's face — though it was clear that Logan's span wasn't quite what it should be for that game, as he'd sent one claw through Whitehall's cheek.

Whitehall let out a hiss of displeasure as he sneered at Logan. "If you wanted to join him, all you had to do was to ask."

Logan's eyes narrowed further as the last claw slowly made its way up, pressing against Whitehall's throat. "Where. Is. Barton?" But when the man smiled, instead of getting a quick death like he had assumed, Logan hit him hard with his free hand and sent a claw through the man's shoulder. "You have three other ball and sockets I can wreck and plenty more to cut. Answer my question."

For every stuttered answer that Logan didn't believe, or every snide remark, Whitehall received quick correction — and not once did Logan drop his gaze from Whitehall's as he would attack one handed, pressure points, cuts, strategic stab wounds that Logan knew wouldn't be fatal but would hurt like hell.

All the while, Natasha kept the guards at bay, while Bobbi worked quickly to get Steve out of the predicament he'd been stuck in, simply cutting through anything she couldn't get undone fast enough.

Steve rubbed both hands over his eyes for a long moment as he took in a deep breath before he turned Bobbi's way. "Your timing is perfect," he said.

"How long were you in here?" Bobbi asked, trying to look him over and direct his attention away from Logan — who had just lost his temper a bit when Whitehall reached out and put his hand on Logan's arm … though from the heavy thump and screaming that followed, she could guess what had just happened.

Especially when she heard Logan hiss out, incredibly low, "You don't get to touch me."

Steve winced more than Bobbi did and rubbed at his eyes once more. "Not long ... I think. Felt longer," he said haltingly, still coming down from the panic of what had been about to happen to him.

"Clint's at the other location," Logan called out finally before he did something that had Whitehall on the ground and positively squirming. "Go ahead. I'll catch up."

"Mind if I stay?" Bobbi said, leaned against the wall. "I won't step in. I just want to see this through." She tipped her head toward Whitehall, her eyes narrowed. "He's a loose end for me too."

Logan watched her for a moment, and when Whitehall tried to crawl away, he just put a boot in the middle of his back and stood on him. "Pretty sure you know where the wine is."

Bobbi nodded and made herself comfortable leaned against the wall, though Natasha was already out the door, with a very confused Steve on her tail.

In the meantime, Quill, Kurt, and Wade were on the other side of the compound, searching through room after room for any sign of their missing friends, Clint, or Whitehall ... Osborn — anyone.

When Quill threw open one door, though, he was surprised to find that there was already someone on the other side of it, just inches away, and both Betsy and Remy looked surprised to see them. Remy still had a pick in his hand, and Quill could see the busted-open cell behind the two of them.

"Well, dat's one way to get de door open. Faster, sure 'nuff," Remy chuckled.

"You three haven't seen Steve, have you?" Betsy asked around Remy's shoulder.

"No," Kurt said. "Maybe the others found him. We have another team here."

"Well, we'd best get movin'," Remy said. "De ol' creep what took Steve, he didn't look like nobody dat got bidniss wit ol' Cap."

"You haven't seen anyone else, have you?" Quill asked.

The two former captives shared a quick look and shook their heads. "Who should we see?" Betsy asked. "I just want out."

The three boys shared a look, and Kurt let out a sigh. "We had been hoping to find Clint," he admitted — an instant before an echoing twang rang out in the hallway and Wade let out a little squeal as he ducked, the arrow just where he had been seconds ago.

"Found him!" Wade declared as he rushed forward to try and tackle Clint with a shouted, "Olly, olly, oxen free!" that was answered with a bow in the face. "That was not nice, Clinton Francis," Wade said as he rushed toward the purple clad archer. "I went through all the trouble to find you and you just …. Ugh."

"What's the story?" Betsy asked Kurt as the rest of them ran forward to help Wade. "Do I want to know?"

"We came for him; he's been compromised," Kurt explained shortly, dodging a foot that went just over his head.

"No kiddin'," Remy said, just barely avoiding Wade as Clint tried to throw him that way.

"Don't kill him; don't break anything," Kurt instructed. He darted around when Clint was recovering from the throw, seeming to appear behind him with a sword drawn as he quickly cut the bowstring. "I promise I will replace that once you're back to yourself."

Clint glanced around at the group of them, still holding the bow, though now like a staff, before he tipped his head to the side and spun the staff into Wade's stomach, dropping it in favor of the knife in his boot instead as he turned tail to run.

"Oh, that's it, mister! You don't tag and run like that from me," Wade shouted — though it came out more like a croak as he got himself more upright. With a ridiculous-sounding roar and a few loud 'oh, ouch'es thrown in for good measure, Wade led the charge after Clint. "No running in the halls!"

The group of them managed to catch up to Clint before he could get too far, and the archer skidded to a stop at the corner, spinning around to face the group of them. This time, when he looked over the group, he simply frowned and flipped the knife in his hand once before he pulled it toward his own throat — and Wade let out a strangled noise as he leapt forward.

He wrapped his legs around Clint's waist and his arms hooked at the tall blonde's elbows, wrenching his arms backward. "No, no; that is not how this works, birthday buddy. Nope." Clint thrashed and tried to throw him, but no matter how hard he bashed Wade into the wall, Wade just held tighter. "Not. Gonna. Happen!" Wade shouted in his ear with every bash. The two of them were still struggling all the way up until Clint finally lost his grip on the knife, his hands numb for as tightly as Wade was pulling his arms back.

But he wasn't giving up the fight. Clint was getting desperate, bashing himself as much as he was Wade, until Natasha and Steve turned the corner and saw what was going on. Before anyone could fill them in, Steve took a few quick steps forward and hammered Clint with a right jab that dropped Clint and Wade right where he stood.

"What… happened?" Natasha asked, halfway scared of the answer.

"He ... put a knife to his own throat," Kurt said almost breathlessly, while Wade didn't look like he was even considering detangling his limbs from Clint's.

"He what?" Natasha had stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide.

"Wade saved him," Betsy agreed.

Natasha blinked at Betsy for a long moment before she knelt down next to Clint and then looked to Wade. "He's out. I've got him from here if he wakes up again," Natasha said in an almost gentle tone.

"Not until he's restrained," Wade said. "I'll carry him for you if you like, but I'm not going to trust he won't try it again. He didn't do it until he was cornered."

"Well, that's something at least," Natasha breathed out. She glanced toward Steve for a moment, and then her gaze found Kurt's. "That's everyone. If I give you directions to where Logan is, could you remind him we need to leave?"

"Is that a concern?" Kurt asked.

"He found Whitehall," Natasha said simply.

Kurt went a bit pale and nodded his head in understanding as he listened to Natasha's directions and then quickly took off running.

When he got to the room — and he knew it was the right room from the low whimpering coming out of it — he was surprised to find Bobbi simply watching as Whitehall trembled on the floor, a bloodied raw mess. But Logan was still working.

"Did you find the other two?" Bobbi asked Kurt over the sound of it.

"Yes," Kurt said, wide-eyed, unable to look away. "We … we need to go now."

Bobbi tipped her head Kurt's way and pushed off from the wall. "Logan, you hear that?" she asked.

"Go ahead," Logan muttered. "I'll find my own way."

"Just… finish this and come with us," Kurt said.

"He doesn't deserve anything that civil."

"And I tend to agree," Bobbi said. "Taste of his own medicine — not to mention it's a great way for Logan to channel some anger." She smirked. "Against the right person."

Kurt frowned as he looked over the scene. "No, but we have the others — including Clint — and we're not going to leave you here for Osborn to find." He gestured at Whitehall. "He isn't worth the time you're spending on him, Logan. He isn't worth the effort you're putting in, do you hear me?"

Kurt missed the look on Logan's face as he glared down at the man at his feet. It took a lot longer than Kurt wanted to see, but finally, finally, Logan flicked his wrist, and what was left of Whitehall's blood emptied on the carpet as Logan stepped away, bloodied and still simmering as he turned and left the man behind.

The three of them took off down the halls at a run, though the flight assignments were slightly switched up just by virtue of the fact that Wade was carrying Clint to Scott's plane, and everyone else was headed to meet up with May.

Kurt took the copilot's seat, since it was clear Natasha needed someone there, and with Bobbi finally starting to feel the time spent watching Logan work as well as the weight of yet another person she cared about needing her attention... and Wade watching Clint's every breath even after Natasha had tied him up….

Scott had turned in the cockpit to glance at Clint with a deepening frown when they came in, and the expression only got worse when he saw Logan, but once everyone was seated and strapped in — and Wade was double-sure that Clint was properly restrained — he turned his attention back to the takeoff.

Kurt hadn't been around to see the landing, so when Scott didn't turn on any of the lights to take off in the same darkness cover that he'd landed in, Kurt couldn't help but hold his breath.

"Relax," Scott said after a moment, and Kurt had to shake his head when he saw the slight glow of Scott's eyes. "Fitz updated them."

"Clearly," Kurt said weakly, and Scott smirked.

In the meantime, Natasha was watching Clint, one hand resting on one of his arms. She was practically breathing in time with him for how concerned she was. She knew from her sessions with Charles that she'd had what Ivan called a 'self-destruct' built into her Red Room programming, but it was one thing to know it… and another thing entirely to see it in action, especially with Clint.

She knew she would get around to asking Bobbi about it. Eventually. But for now, she was honestly taking a moment to be upset.

"Don't you worry," Wade said, watching Clint almost as closely but for an entirely different reason, just waiting for him to make a move that Wade might even possibly consider as 'waking up.' "The Clintasha monster won't let this stand."

"Wade," she said, but she didn't have the energy for more than that. She shook her head as, before she realized she was doing it, she'd brushed some of the hair out of Clint's face.

"That's not overly unique," Bobbi said, though she looked almost pained as she watched Clint and Natasha. "All of them have a self destruct put in. We can get it out."

"I'm not worried; I'm mad," Natasha said, pulling back her hand and putting on a glare.

"He didn't have an apprentice," Bobbi said. "Not unless you count me. If you don't… It was just him."

"Then that's something, at least," Natasha said as she let out a sigh. "I'm almost disappointed I left Logan to finish up, though, if there's no one left."

"Believe me, the guy suffered," Bobbi promised.

"Oh, I believe it," Natasha said, glancing toward Logan. "There's just something about … doing it yourself, though."

Logan glanced their way for a moment, half glaring toward Clint before he turned his attention toward the front of the plane again, not at all in the mood to talk.

"We'll get started undoing what Whitehall did as soon as we get back," Bobbi said. "I won't be able to do it on my own. I'll need someone to help me hold him. But I'm sure we'll have plenty of volunteers."

"I'll do it," Logan said without turning his head.

Bobbi glanced his way. "You'd have to work with me."

"I said I'd do it."

"I want to be there too," Natasha said quietly, her gaze on Logan for a long moment before she turned back to Clint when it looked like he was starting to stir.

"I'm sure a friendly face will be helpful," Bobbi said. "I'm not sure how he'll react to me, considering my work was what got between us in the first place."

"He still cares about you. He'll consider you a friendly face," Natasha pointed out. "I just want to know how he was able to avoid fighting me; he never once shot at me. That has to mean he was more in control of his actions than normal, right?"

"We'll figure it out," Bobbi promised, unconsciously resting a hand on Clint's arm as well. "I promise."