6. Stasis in darkness.
"Sir, you need to sleep," JARVIS stated, his tone bordering on exasperated.
"Yeah," Clint nodded, his words slurring slightly. "It's not that late yet." He hunched forward over the coffee table, running his thumb nail down the folded edge of the piece of paper with a slow scrape.
"You slept less than an hour over twenty-four hours ago," JARVIS reminded. "It is also the third night this week you have neglected to sleep."
"Yep," Clint declared, turning the paper and folding it again.
"I must inform you that you are officially impaired," the AI continued. Clint made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, carefully straightening the wings of his paper airplane and shooting it across the room. The airplane curved around the TV and landed nose first into one of the wall sconces.
"Score!" Clint declared, raising his hands in the air.
"Perhaps an airborne sedative," JARVIS suggested.
"I'm sorry, Jay," Clint sighed, rubbing his eyes. He hesitated a moment, blighting his lip. "I'm… kind of scared to go to sleep."
His confession was met with silence and he frowned at the ceiling.
"JARVIS?" he questioned hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, sir," JARVIS answered his tone tinged with confusion. "I have personally witnessed you fighting aliens, single handedly destroying giant robots and then there was the radioactive reptile incident in Sendai."
"We do not talk about that!" Clint reminded harshly, suppressing a shudder.
"I am having a difficult time understanding how you could fear unconsciousness," JARVIS admitted. Clint couldn't help but smile.
"You understand about fear, JARVIS?" he asked.
"Yes sir," JARVIS answered sounding the faintest bit uneasy.
"The thing with fear," Clint explained, swallowing. "It's not the things we can fight that scare us. Fear is what happens when we're powerless, when there's nothing we can do."
"Then I suppose I'm having difficulty imagining a situation in which you would be powerless, sir," JARVIS replied.
"It happens more than you think, Jay," Clint confessed, his voice raspy.
Clint stared at the heavy shackles on his wrists with a detached sort of terror. They were thick and ugly, not at all like the standard police issue handcuffs that SHIELD normally employed. These weren't meant for a garden variety criminal, they were meant for a villain. Maybe that's what he was now.
"Colonel this is highly inappropriate!" Maria Hill was glaring angrily at the officer and his aides, her eyes darting to the pair of Military Police who flanked the chair Clint was sitting in.
It had all happened so fast, one moment he had been on the range, giving a demonstration to a bunch of new recruits. The next a half dozen army uniforms had pounced on him, manacles clamped to his wrists as they proceeded to drag him out of SHIELD headquarters.
Maria Hill had practically skidded in through the doorway, hair flying out of her pony tail and a venomous glare on her face. She refused to let them leave and now they were all locked in the training classroom at the back of the range. Two more MP's guarded the door and another pair were out in the hall.
Colonel Glenn Talbot had the look about him of a man who felt the best way to deal with a problem was to blow it up, shoot it, or lock it away. Clint had dealt with his sort before and negotiation wasn't their strong suit. Hill's attempts of talking him out of this weren't going that well.
Clint would be lying if he said he hadn't been expecting this. He'd rather hoped the timing might have gone a little better. The part of his brain that wasn't screaming in panic was patiently pointing out that Talbot had probably planned this. Natasha was in Texas, taking out a human trafficking ring she'd spent the last three years slowly dismantling. Their big break had come less than a week ago and Phil had left last night to pull her out and supervise the cleanup. There would be a lot of young kids who wouldn't be spending their best years as sex slaves. It also meant neither of them were coming to his rescue.
Tony had left for a big tech conference in London a couple of days before and Cap was in DC for some sort of promotion for the Maria Stark Foundation. Something to do with art supplies for schools, Clint couldn't remember.
With Thor still MIA on Asgard and Fury on the Helicarrier somewhere over Guam, help didn't seem eminent. He really only had one other ally left in the world. Clint drew in a deep breath, desperately glad that Bruce was up in his lab in the tower, completely oblivious to what was going on only a few blocks away.
"What's the meaning of this?" The door burst open with a bang and Clint felt his stomach sink like a rock, his eyes slipping closed. He opened them slowly, turning them on Bruce with a crushed expression he couldn't control.
"Doctor Banner, I thought you might turn up," Talbot declared mockingly.
"Release him," Bruce ordered, jabbing a finger at Clint, his eyes glinting green.
"We have a warrant for his arrest," Talbot answered.
"He's a victim not a criminal!" Bruce insisted.
"That's for the proper authorities to decide," Talbot countered disdainfully.
"Doctor Banner," Hill stated, placatingly, "We can discuss this later."
"We won't discuss this later!" Bruce snapped. "how dare you come in here and humiliate a good man who nearly gave his life to save this city. Now you take those things off him right now. If he needs to be detained SHIELD will hold him here."
"Forgive me if I don't share your confidence in their adherence to the law," Talbot countered. "We want Barton where we know he can't escape."
"You want him in a pit where he'll never see the light of day again," Bruce accused.
"He can't escape from that," Talbot observed. Banner's eyes narrowed and Clint swallowed down his panic.
"Bruce, it's okay," Clint insisted. "It's fine, it's not worth it. Just let them take me, Fury and Tony will take care of this when they get back."
"Just wait for me in my office," Maria suggested, a gentle hand falling on Bruce's arm. He shook it off, turning to glare at her.
"I'm not going anywhere," he insisted.
"You're partially right about that," Talbot sneered. "You're coming with us, Banner, we have a warrant for you as well."
"I wouldn't recommend it," Bruce declared. Talbot's aide raised his rifle pointing it at Banner and Clint felt his breath catch in his throat.
"That's a tranquilizer gun," Clint stated, stunned that he hadn't noticed it before. His heart was hammering in his chest and he gritted his teeth. "This is what you planned all along isn't it? You threatened me to draw him out!" Cold rage boiled in his stomach, the shackles digging into his wrists as he clenched his fists.
"Make no mistake," Talbot answered coldly. "We're definitely here for you, but we figured there was at least a good chance Banner wouldn't be able to stay out of it. Two for the price of one."
"That's really not going to work out that well for you," Bruce's expression was almost serene as he nodded in the direction of the tranq gun.
"I have it on assurance it will," Talbot insisted.
"You're wrong," Bruce replied, but Clint thought he saw the faintest hint of doubt there.
"You'd better hope I'm not," Talbot's lips curled up in an ugly smile. He nodded at the MPs and Clint gulped as he felt the barrel of a hand gun dig into his temple. "If you resist, and we can't subdue you, well, that'll be unfortunate for Agent Barton won't it?"
"This is outrageous!" Hill's eyes were flaming with indignation. "I won't allow you to come in here and abduct our people at gunpoint!"
"You don't have any authority to stop me," Talbot scoffed.
"Doc," Clint let his eyes dart up to meet the other man's "Do it." He could almost feel Bruce's silent gasp and he was stunned himself at how calm he felt.
"Do it," he repeated firmly. "Don't let them take you, don't let them get ahold of your blood, you know what they'll do. You can't let that happen. Do it."
"Stand down, Doctor Banner," Talbot advised mockingly. Clint winced as the barrel of the gun dug into his skin.
"Do it," He insisted pleadingly. "Bruce, do it."
"You're threatening a prisoner!" Hill fumed in outrage and Clint felt a sudden spark of gratefulness toward her. He'd nearly killed her and now she was defending him. If he hadn't been so completely terrified he might have hugged her.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Doctor," Talbot offered.
"Sorry I'm late," The door banged open again and Clint bit back a yelp, feeling the gun dig deeper. He had to give the MP credit for not having a jumpy trigger finger. Clint didn't move, he merely shifted his gaze to the door.
"The traffic from the airport was terrible," Captain America stood in the doorway in his dress uniform, his hat tucked neatly under one arm and a folder of documents in his hand. "I just got in and I heard there was a problem with a couple of my men."
"Your men?" Talbot's lip curled but there was a hint of unease in his eyes.
"Yes," Captain America answered firmly. And it was Captain America, not Steve, despite the absence of the suit. "My men." Roger's eyes turned on the pair of MPs flanking Clint but he said nothing, a moment later the one with his gun against Clint's head shifted uncomfortably before lowering his sidearm.
"Thank you, Sargent," Steve stated sincerely as the MPs stepped back a pace. "Now, Colonel Talbot, isn't it? What seems to be the problem here?"
"I have warrants for both Doctor Banner and Agent Barton," Talbot stated, unease on his face as he tossed the documents onto the table.
"Is that a fact?" Steve asked curiously, picking the folder up and leafing through it with a frown.
"I demand that you release them to me at once," Talbot snarled angrily. "Unless you'd like your own charge of obstructing justice."
"I can't imagine I'd ever be tempted to obstruct justice," Steve admitted with the faintest curl of his lips. Clint would have laughed if the whole thing weren't so horrifying. "Everything does appear to be in order."
"Steve, you can't let them have Barton," Bruce's expression was almost crushed.
"It's okay," Clint insisted before looking up at Steve with pleading eyes. "It's all right, let them take me and SHIELD can take Bruce into custody, it's fair."
"This is not okay!" Bruce's eyes flared with a hint of anger but Steve raised his hand placatingly.
"Are you going to release them to me or not?" Talbot demanded.
"I'm afraid I can't oblige you, Colonel," Steve answered.
"Excuse me?" Talbot stiffened. Clint's head swam, this was a nightmare. He felt a firm hand settle on his shoulder, squeezing gently.
I'm sorry, Colonel, I'm afraid you've been left out of the loop," Steve answered, the hint of a charming smile playing across his lips. "You see, ironically enough, I just came from the president. He'd asked me to come by and pick up the pardons for both Doctor Banner and Agent Barton."
"The President…" Talbot looked as if he'd just eaten a live goldfish.
"He gave me a call right after the Battle of New York," Steve explained, his smile now full on USO as he leaned forward, still clutching Clint's shoulder as he laid down the folder in his other hand, carefully spreading out the documents inside. Clint didn't need to see them clearly to know what they said but he stared anyway. "He said if I ever needed anything… well, can't imagine what I'd need for myself."
"This is outrageous!" Talbot hissed.
"This is out of your hands, Colonel," Steve declared with a gentle tone. "I'd recommend retreat."
"This isn't over," Talbot threatened.
"The constitution would disagree with you, sir." Steve's hand slipped from Clint's shoulder and he reached down, grasping hold of the manacles. There was a screech of twisting metal as he squeezed and the locks burst, the shackles clanking uselessly to the table. Steve grasped Clint by the arm, hauling him to his feet.
"Doctor Banner, I believe we're late for a team briefing," Steve stated, glancing at Hill who jerked her head at the door. Bruce scuttled forward, sweeping up the folder with their pardons and heading for the door as Steve gave a final nod to Talbot before chivying Clint out.
"Don't you walk out on me, Captain!" Talbot howled after them. "I promise you're going to live to regret this!"
"He talks and he talks but all I hear is blah blah blah," Steve mumbled under his breath, herding Bruce and Clint ahead of him. Bruce let out a nervous snort of amusement.
"Was there a team meeting?" Clint asked his voice unsteady. "I don't remember a meeting."
"Normally I'd be a little more patient," Steve admitted. "But right now, Clint, I need you to shut up and keep walking. Bruce, are you okay?"
"Yeah," the doctor nodded nervously. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good," Steve nodded with a pleased smile that fell off his face almost instantly. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I…" Bruce's voice trembled and he drew in a shaky breath.
"Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what would have happened if I'd been just ten minutes later?" Steve's brow was furrowed in his best commanding officer face and Clint honestly didn't know if he should be intimidated or amused at the dressing down Steve was firing at Banner.
"Bad call?" Bruce asked sheepishly.
"That is the last time I want to hear about you going toe to toe with anyone in a military uniform," Steve growled out. "You call in, you wait for backup, if you can't do anything covert then you don't do anything."
"Are these not real pardons?" Bruce asked, clutching the folder to his chest.
"Of course they're real," Steve snapped in exasperation. "Do you honestly think that would stop men like Talbot from kidnapping you?"
"You actually got the president to pardon us?" Clint asked in awe. It wasn't registering in his brain. He could hear the words and he knew what they were supposed to mean but he couldn't make them real.
"You need to work on your shutting up," Steve observed, his tone far more gentle than the one he was directing at Bruce. "Why the hell do you two think I was in DC in the first place?"
"You went to DC to get the president to pardon us," Clint felt light headed and the air seemed suddenly thick.
"Shutting up and walking, Barton," Steve reminded again, steering them down a side corridor. A door near the end of the hall banged open on its hinges and Tony bolted into view, his eyes wild and his hair disheveled.
"What the hell!" he demanded, hurrying toward them. "You're okay? You're both okay right?"
"Everyone's fine," Steve assured. Tony wrapped both arms around Bruce's neck and then suddenly seemed to remember himself and released the doctor as if he had been singed, taking a step back.
"Christ, don't scare me like that!" Tony insisted angrily.
"You were in London this morning," Clint observed, still half dazed.
"Jet lag's a bitch at Mach 4" Tony nodded, helping Steve maneuver them down the hall and though the stairwell doors. "Come on, Happy's waiting for us out front."
"If you ever do anything like that again," Steve picked up where he left off as they rattled down the stairs. "I swear on all that's holy, Bruce."
"I'll hold him, for you," Tony offered, manhandling Bruce along as Steve tugged at Clint to keep him moving. "Do you want me to hold him for you?"
"Save it, Tony," Bruce finally protested. They exited the stairwell and Stark picked up his pace, the four of them nearly running across the foyer and out the doors to the waiting limo. Happy had the door open and the four of them inside before Clint could even register the feeling of free air on his skin.
"Get us out of here, Happy," Tony ordered, collapsing in the plush leather breathlessly. "JARVIS, I want the tower on lockdown as soon as we're inside."
"Making preparations now, sir," The AI confirmed.
"Let Agent Coulson and Natasha know that we have Clint and Bruce and we're heading home," Steve added.
"Right away, Captain," JARVIS answered.
"Damn that pisses me off," Tony snapped, opening the bar and pouring himself a scotch. "Guy saves the world and next thing you know a bunch of jarheads try to stuff him in a hole in the earth."
"Jarheads are Marines, Tony," Steve stated, shaking his head.
"Makes me wonder if the world's even worth saving," Tony groused.
"You can't judge everyone based on a few people!" Steve insisted aghast.
"All I'm saying is the lack of appreciation is getting old," Tony replied. "It was one of Ross's flunkies, wasn't it?"
"Talbot," Steve gave a sharp, tense nod.
"You'd of thought that asshole had learned his lesson," Tony declared, rolling his eyes. Steve shot him a dark look.
"You have history with Talbot?" Bruce asked in confusion.
"Tony," Steve stated warningly.
"I used to make weapons for the US military," Tony shrugged. "I have history with everybody."
"Um, Tony," Bruce tried to interrupt.
"I mean why is it even necessary for you to call in a solid from the President of the United States in order to protect the people who saved his ass?" Tony continued to rant. "It's insulting is what it is."
"Tony," Steve sighed.
"What?" Stark demanded. Steve jerked his head in Clint's direction.
"Shit," Tony blinked at Clint with wide eyes.
"Are you okay," Bruce asked gently, kneeling on the floor of the limo, his hand resting on Clint's wrist. Clint opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out.
"It's okay," Steve murmured, sliding a few inches closer to Clint and draping an arm around his shaking shoulders as Bruce probed his pulse.
"His heart rate's a bit thready," Bruce admitted, worry furrowing his brow. "Clint I want you to take some long slow breaths. Just try to think of something relaxing."
"Like not spending fifty years in an eight foot by eight foot cell?" Clint asked, breathing heavily. "Or like not watching a giant green vivisection?" Bruce flinched.
"My god, Bruce are you stupid?" Clint demanded, panic seizing him. "Did you even think about what they'd do to you if they actually captured you?"
"Clint we're not going to let that happen," Steve insisted.
"There's enough blood on my hands!" Clint bellowed before he could stop himself. "I don't need yours too!"
"We all have blood on our hands," Tony stated, a haunted look in his eyes. "Well, maybe not captain do-gooder, here."
"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Point is," Tony continued undeterred. "I chose what I'm guilty of. You didn't."
"You were doing your job," Clint huffed out unsteady breaths.
"Doesn't make it right," Tony insisted.
"My freedom isn't worth anyone's life," Clint could feel the humiliating crush of guilt on his chest and his hands balled into fists. A gentle hand closed over his own and he opened his eyes to meet Bruce's.
"You're worth it to us," Bruce assured firmly.
"What if they'd have taken you?" Clint demanded.
"I went up against half the Nazi special forces and stopped an alien invasion," Steve stated. "I'm not about to crumple in front of a platoon of wet behind the ears regulars."
"I have no idea what you just said," Tony admitted, rolling his eyes. "Look, Robin Hood, we're a team. And maybe I kind of suck at the whole team thing."
"Maybe?" Bruce asked. Tony shot him a warning look.
"I am really good at being a selfish bastard," Tony declared proudly. "And my selfish ass likes having you shooting things before they can kill me."
"You stick to that story, Tony," Steve said with a smirk.
"It's a good story," Tony nodded.
"I don't leave men behind, Clint," Steve insisted. "No matter what happens, the Avengers are coming for you. You better get used to it."
"Talbot's lucky he didn't rate a full assemble," Bruce quipped.
"You should have seen the look on his face," Steve gave Tony a grin. "It was priceless."
"Of course if we really wanted to terrorize him, we'd sick Pepper on him," Tony observed. Clint let out a bark of amusement, rubbing at his eyes as Steve and Bruce struggled not to laugh.
Clint sighed, running his fingers though his hair. That day had been something of a turning point for him. He'd been proud to be on the Avengers, proud of being included, of what they stood for. But he hadn't felt like a part of it until that moment. Sitting in the back of Tony Stark's limo with Captain America's arm around his shoulders and the Hulk holding his hand as the adrenaline tremors wore off. For the first time in his life his place of safety in the world felt larger than Natasha and Phil. He might have cried in relief a little when they'd made it home and no one was looking.
"Jay were you scared when Tony flew the nuke into the wormhole?" Clint asked finally.
"Yes, sir," the AI admitted.
"And when he was dying of palladium poisoning," Clint added.
"Yes," Clint nodded to show he was listening and a moment later JARVIS continued. "I have had Mr. Stark all my life, in many ways assisting him has been my life. I have always known that one day that part of my existence would cease and I would have to find a new task, but I find myself unwilling to consider it."
"Losing the people that mean the most to you is just about the most terrifying thing in the world." Clint stated, leaning back in the arm chair and placing his feet on the coffee table. "And in the end there's nothing we can do to stop it."
"I take comfort in knowing that the Avengers, in some form or another, will always need me," JARVIS confessed. Clint sighed, running his fingers though his hair.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I hope that's true for me too."