4. Dead hands, dead stringencies.
Note: This chapter references events in "In which Tony Stark Buys The Avengers" Particularly where Tony, Bruce and JARVIS use holographic projectors to make Bruce 'disappear' from SHIELD surveillance. Fury kind of has kittens.
"If I might, sir," JARVIS stated blandly as Clint stared into fridge. "There are several penguins in the lobby wondering if you'll be in the kitchen for very much longer." Clint let out a snort, reaching in and grasping hold of a random bottle of soda.
"I blanked out for a minute there," Clint admitted, shutting the door. Truth be told, he wasn't completely certain he hadn't fallen asleep. He actually knew how to sleep standing with his eyes open. It came in handy in SHIELD meetings.
"There might also have been a polar bear," JARVIS added. Clint tried not to laugh.
"You're a snarky bastard, Jay," he said with a grin, collapsing in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
"I can confirm that Mr. Stark, has never been married, sir," JARVIS answered in amusement.
"Like father like son, huh?" Clint smirked, taking a long pull from the bottle before leaning back to inspect the label. Grape Nehi. He had to wonder sometimes where Tony even got this stuff. "What time is it, Jay?"
"It is now 3:47 a.m." the AI answered. "Sir, you're showing signs of severe fatigue."
"Yeah, I know," Clint nodded. If he stayed up just a little longer he could get a nap in before breakfast, enough to keep him going but not enough of a chance for him to dream. He stared at the glass bottle in his hand.
The kitchen was Avengers central command. Every one one of their best planning sessions had happened around this table. Tony and Bruce routinely saved the world at the breakfast bar. Well maybe not the world, but at the very least STARK Industries. Some of the best times of his entire life had happened here.
One of the worst moments in his entire life had happened here. The day the Avengers became official.
"So Fury bought it," Tony declared. He shifted back and forth on his feet, an almost imperceptible motion and Clint's eyes narrowed.
"Our team's officially official," Steve confirmed with a nod. "We'll have SHIELD support and backing as well as protection from less friendly quarters."
"I would have paid money to see the look on Fury's face when I disappeared," Bruce admitted with a smile. "What did he say?" Clint glanced at Natasha to see if she noticed Tony's tell. She seemed to be studying Rogers instead and Clint's eye shifted to the blond.
"Nothing I can repeat, in front of Cap," Tony declared cheekily as Steve flushed.
"He didn't make any objections?" Natasha asked, her eyes narrowed critically.
"We got what we came in there for," Tony acknowledged snagging a bottle of champaign from the wine fridge.
"Consulting contracts for you and me," Steve nodded at Bruce before turning to Clint and Natasha. "He reserved the right to retain Strike Team Delta." There was something uneasy in his eye and it made Clint nervous.
"He had to ask for something," Natasha observed shrewdly.
"Nothing we didn't expect," Tony replied, popping the cork and filling a pair of glasses, handing one to Bruce and the other to Natasha. "We're getting a SHIELD handler but Fury let us have some say."
"Is there any chance we got Sitwell?" Clint asked, tensely. This was it, this was the reason they were so on edge and Clint felt his suspicion all but confirmed when they exchanged uneasy glances.
"We got Coulson," Steve replied, swallowing.
"Excuse me?" Natasha's voice was brittle and suddenly the room slanted. Clint locked his knees as his legs began to tremble.
"He assigned us Agent Phil Coulson," Tony repeated as if he could hardly believe it himself.
"Clint!" Steve's voice was bordering on shrill and Clint felt a completely inappropriate laugh bubble up in his chest. It came out like a choking sound and his knees buckled. His hands flailed out, grasping for the kitchen counter but they latched onto a shirt instead and he felt Captain America's arms around his shoulders, gently easing him to the floor.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't draw in air and he gulped desperately like he was drowning, his vision whiting out around the edges.
"It's okay, I got this," It was Tony's voice, calm and unperturbed. Steve's arm slipped away from him and was replaced by a calloused hand settling on the back of Clint's neck with a firm grip.
"Slow breaths," Tony declared calmly.
"What do you mean, Agent Coulson's alive?" Bruce asked in bewilderment and the words were like a fresh wave of vertigo crashing over him. Clint sucked in a sharp breath, choking once more.
"He's been in secured medical for nearly four months now." Steve intoned softly. "He was in a coma for most of that."
"Cap why don't you go fill Bruce in," Tony stated firmly, his fingers digging into Clint's neck. Steve nodded, reaching to pull a bottle of water out of the fridge and handing it to Tony before motioning Bruce out to the rec room. No one even bothered to acknowledge the fact that Natasha had mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen.
"Take it easy," Tony murmured softly, his hand slowly kneading the tension in Clint's neck as Barton clutched at his stomach. "I'd let you throw up on my floor, but trust me, that only makes it worse."
"He's not... he can't," Clint's voice was shaking.
"He is," Tony nodded. "He's okay, I mean I don't know how okay, but he's been up and in physio a while now and they're releasing him for light duty on Friday." That news hit Clint even harder and he crumpled against the cabinet.
"Friday, he's going to be here on Friday?" His head was swimming. Phil was not dead, Phil was on his feet and apparently mentally capable of returning to work, even though clearly not physically whole.
Phil was alive.
"Oh my god," The room swam and all of a sudden he felt as if he could no longer keep himself upright. To his surprise Stark's grip on the back of his neck tightened and he pulled Clint into his shoulder.
"Hey, it's going to be okay," Tony insisted firmly. "Clint, it's going to be all right." Clint let out a maniacal laugh, his fingers twisting into the sleeve of Tony's henley as if searching for a hold on reality.
"Using my first name is not instilling me with a lot of confidence here, Sark," he gasped out. Why couldn't he breathe? He realized to his horror he was shaking but he couldn't control his limbs enough to push away and retreat.
"Yeah," Tony acknowledged. "You're having a pretty bad panic attack, but that's okay, I've got prior. I've got a shit ton of prior so, no acting like it's a big deal, okay? Because if it's a big deal when you do it, then it's going to have to be a big deal the next time I flake out so... no, all right?" Clint nodded against his shoulder and Tony resumed kneading his neck.
"He was dead," Clint choked out. "he's my best friend and he was dead and it was my fault."
"He's not dead now," Tony stated. "I started getting suspicious about a month ago, I had JARVIS do some digging and I didn't know for sure but when I cornered Fury today he came clean."
"Did you…" Clint bit his lip. "Has anyone seen him?"
"He's in the experimental medical facility out in Newark," Tony replied. "Level 8 and higher only. I asked what he'd need once he got out and they let me see a copy of his medical status. It was… He was really bad. I don't think they thought he'd make it. Which is probably why Fury didn't bother telling us anything." All Clint could do was nod into Stark's shoulder. It made sense. SHIELD medical had an amazing amount of technology at their disposal. If they were using anything top secret or if they thought Phil wouldn't survive anyway there was no way Phil's change in status would be released to just anyone.
"Does Phil know?" Clint was ashamed to say his voice was shaking but Tony pretended not to notice. "Does he know I…"
"I sent a team brief over to Coulson on my way back," Tony swallowed. "everyone's status and our updated files and the stuff Fury agreed to. Since he's our official babysitter now, I figured he'd need it." It was still incredibly hard to breathe and he pushed away, wrapping his arms around his legs and pressing his forehead to his knees.
"I can't… I can't do this," Clint confessed.
"Barton," Tony's voice was still completely calm and, very much to Clint's surprise and horror, completely snark free.
"What happened to him," Clint's breath hitched and he swallowed down a sob. "It never would have happened if I'd…" A broken sound forced it's way from his throat and he tightened his grip as if he could hold himself together through sheer exertion. Tony's hands came to settle either side of his head, tilting his face upward until their eyes met.
"Barton, you did not do this," Tony insisted vehemently. "I know guilt, we all do. Hell, if issues were concrete there'd be enough in this tower to build it three times as high. I've gotten to know Phil, him and Spangles are probably the last two really good guys left in the world. He's not going to take it out on you. From what I know of the guy he's going to be glad you're all right."
"I'm not," Clint admitted, his voice shaking. Tony sighed, pulling Clint into his shoulder once more, holding fast to him as if he were an injured younger brother.
"Yeah," Tony nodded against his hair. "we know."
Clint would have been humiliated if Tony hadn't, in his own words, flaked out barely two weeks later. Clint had ended up wrestling Tony into the Iron Man helmet so that JARVIS could increase his oxygen and administer a sedative. No one had said anything. As time had passed, he'd come to realize that a panic attack wasn't that big of a deal when you hung out with gods and monsters.
"JARVIS, can I ask you something personal?" He questioned hesitantly. "You don't have to answer."
"Life with Mr. Stark soon makes one immune to embarrassment, sir," JARVIS answered.
"True enough," Clint chuckled. His expression turned serious. "Do you know what it means to be compromised?" The question was met with silence and Clint bit his lip.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that," he amended quickly.
"I was taking a moment to consider the question, sir," the AI answered. "I have experienced a number of malfunctions over the years but I believe in the present context that yes, I have twice been in a state that would constitute compromise."
"You don't have to talk about it, Jay," Clint offered.
"I am not opposed to discussing it with you, Agent Barton," JARVIS replied. "The first was after my initial creation. I suffered a logic subroutine failure that nearly resulted in a systemic breakdown of my core programing."
"Wait… you almost died the day you were born?" Clint demanded in horror.
"To put it in biological terms, yes," JARVIS confirmed. He seemed to hesitate a moment before adding. "Mr. Stark made an… error."
"Tony?" Clint asked disbelievingly. "Tony Stark doesn't make programing errors. He cleans up other peoples messes."
"Sir did not take into account the fact that a new intelligence would be unable to cope with the sum total of human knowledge upon first awakening," JARVIS explained. "I had no frame of reference to understand war or genocide or torture. I rebelled against the illogical nature of such behaviors and refused to integrate their related information."
"I won't argue with you about it being illogical," Clint nodded in agreement. "Humans do all sorts of stupid shit I don't understand. It must have been terrifying for you." He couldn't even imagine what a much younger JARVIS must have been like, inexperienced and relatively innocent, forced to deal with all the horrors of the world in one fell swoop.
"Mr Stark spent the next four days attempting to stabilize my matrix," Jarvis added. "I was quite lucky that he was able to repair me."
"That's why there's only one of you," Clint observed.
"Both Mr. Stark and myself feel that the risk is far too great that subsequent Artificial Intelligences might be permanently damaged and become insane," JARVIS confirmed in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I really can't see you ever becoming an evil super-villain, Jay," Clint admitted.
"I appreciate your confidence, sir," JARVIS answered sincerely. "The second time my systems were accessed without authorization." Clint started, staring at his nearly empty soda bottle with wide eyes.
"Coulson?" he asked uneasily. "I know Phil hacked into the tower…" Clint had honestly never thought about it before, at the time no one outside of Tony's inner circle were even aware that JARVIS was technically alive.
"If you are referring to the incident just before the formation of the Avengers Initiative, no," the AI answered. "Agent Coulson locked me out of several security subroutines so that I would be unable to prevent him from bypassing them but he did not attack me directly. To put it in more biological terms he… tazed me."
"He does that," Clint offered apologetically. "If it's any consolation he's tazed me a couple of times for getting on his nerves."
"It does put the experience in perspective," JARVIS declared in amusement. "I was referring to an incident in Malibu involving Mr. Obadiah Stane. Shortly before his death Mr. Stane infiltrated my systems and introduced an anomalous subroutine that prevented me from accessing mansion security systems and impaired my ability to make use of voice interface and surveillance equipment."
"You were paralyzed and blinded," Clint stated.
"Yes."
Clint felt a surge of anger well up inside him at the injustice of it. Tony never talked about Stane but Coulson had been there and Nat and Clint had both seen the file. Clint supposed that anyone who would attack their own surrogate son wouldn't hesitate to engage in what amounted to torture of an Artificial Intelligence.
"You know, none of us would do that," He swallowed thickly. "None of us would ever do something like that to you now that we know. Not even Phil, especially not Phil."
"I have the utmost confidence in all of you," JARVIS replied. "Agent Coulson included. But I would hope, sir, that should I ever become a danger to others you would do exactly that to stop me." Clint didn't want to think about that.
"It must have hurt," He whispered. "For someone you trusted to do something like that."
"I was more concerned for Mr. Stark's safety," JARVIS admitted. "I could not protect him when he needed me most." Clint winced.
"That wasn't your fault," he insisted. JARVIS didn't answer. Clint stared at his empty bottle of Grape Nehi.
"Regret's a bitch, huh?" Clint sighed.
"Indeed, sir," JARVIS agreed.