Five times the team defended each other... and one time they didn't have to.

Summary: from Red's prompt, An Avenger overhears a SHIELD agent say something bad about another team member and loses their shit.
Warnings: Whump, very language heavy
Characters: Whole Team
Written: April 11, 2012 Yeah. It's old

A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who reviews what I write! I don't always get to reply, but I read and appreciate every comment. Thank you to TBB for looking at this back when I put it up on the forum eight months ago.

Part One: Clint and Steve

"I'm beginning to think these legends about Captain America are just a bunch of bullshit," the grumble from the other end of the hallway caught Clint's attention, and slowly the archer pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against. The door to the infirmary lay behind him, firmly locked against his intrusion, but his worry and guilt was momentarily discarded in favor of listening to the conversation.

"I thought he was supposed to be fucking invincible," came the response after a moment's pause. "Doesn't look like it. Maybe he's slacking on purpose."

"Or maybe Banner tried to take him out. It wouldn't be the first time he fucked up," one of the men sneered before adding. "Rogerss just might not be that special. He's ancient if he's the real thing. Maybe they just hired some guy off the street to wear his old costume."

A snort, then: "Banner's too busy chasing tail to take out Rogers. Rogers couldn't even get things right the first time, so it's probably all on him. You know he's not an impostor. No one could sound that stupid on purpose."

Clint narrowed his eyes as he moved forward, his hand instinctively going to his bow before he forced himself to remove his grip. The men were coming closer and he was beginning to bristle with indignation. This was his team they were talking about. This was his goddamned team that was in the fucking infirmary because of these guys, and now they had the nerve to just walk down the hallway and insult them.

"This whole thing is a colossal fuck up. Maybe if the Captain spent less time worrying about that jackass Stark we could get something done."

The archer slowly unclenched his teeth and moved forward, his exhausted body readying itself for a fight as he saw the pair come through the doorway, snickering to themselves.

"Do you think he lies down and takes it – "

The archer stepped forward and both men startled as he slammed the speaker against the wall. The man went ghostly pale in just a moment, his eyes widening as he gasped for breath.

"So you think he should just save the world and your ass with it?" Clint growled at the man who did little more than gape at him. "I don't see you fighting alongside him."

"I'm – I'm… I'm just a normal guy and he's supposed to be a h-hero so-" Clint pressed down on the guy's windpipe, cutting off his speech.

"He's been fighting since he was a puny shrimp with asthma," the archer snapped, ignoring the man's companion who was trying to yank his arm free. Clint cast him a withering glare, kicked the guy to the ground, and planted one boot on his stomach. Clint's captive wasn't nearly so lucky - his face was beginning to tint a harsh, fiery red that was close to becoming purple. "You're a healthy male trained by SHIELD. Why don't I see you getting turned into a fucking pincushion in the name of pathetic lit–"

"Clint," the calm voice off to the side wasn't enough to break through the rage coursing through the marksman. He couldn't believe that this little fucker was casually badmouthing a man who would readily die for someone he didn't even know.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that," Clint growled to the man. "You know what Rogers has done for your ungrateful ass? He's been shot, thrown out of his time, and now he's lying in an infirmary bed after being riddled full of holes and he still fights to save this world. You know why almost my entire team's in the infirmary? Because he was getting a piece of intel that stopped this goddamn building from being blasted into fucking pieces."

The man definitely looked like he was about to pass out, but Clint didn't care. Instead he just pressed his advantage, pouncing like a hyena on an already dead carcass.

"Get out of here," Clint snarled, "Get your ass out of here or -"

A hand pulled Clint away from the man and the archer whirled angrily, grimacing as he prepared to lash out at whoever had interrupted his growing tirade.

He blinked.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," he said gruffly.

"You know, I think that's the most words I've ever come out of your mouth at one time," Steve replied with a chuckle. Clint narrowed his eyes at the friend he had just been defending.

"Yeah? Just because I'm not like Stark doesn't mean that I don't know how to talk to people."

Steve wavered on his feet, and Clint jumped forward to catch him. The man was pale, sweating as he clutched his side with one hand.

"You shouldn't even be mov-" Clint began once again, but Steve interrupted.

"Barton?" Clint fell silent, sighing as the trembling man gingerly made his way back into the infirmary.

"What, Rogers?"

"Thanks."

"That still doesn't mean I like this team."

"Whatever you say."