"I'm really worried about Tony Natasha. He just straight up told me he isn't okay."

"He's probably seeking attention Clint, you shouldn't worry about him. He takes care of himself just fine." The lithe assassin looked at her partner pointedly, trying to get her point across.

"No it wasn't normal Tasha, there's something wrong with him. I mean, have you seen his scars?"

"Clint we all have scars, injuries are an occupational hazard."

"No, they're too straight and perfect. Like he put them there. I think he's hurting himself and nobody notices because who would think there's something wrong with Tony Stark? I mean he's not normal by any means but I still think someone needs to talk to him."

She sighed, "Well you and I are both terrible with real feelings, Steve would just antagonize him, maybe Bruce would work. If he doesn't hulk out when he finds out Tony may be hurting himself."

"Bruce it is. I guess I'll go talk to him when he gets back from his conference."

Tony's voice tangled into the room, "Talk to bruce about what Clint."

"Ah.." the archer hesitated and looked around for support from the now non-existent Black Widow. "I'm really worried about you Tony. Have you been.. Uh, hurting yourself? Cause it-"

"Yes." Silence filled the room for a minute. "Clint I told you I'll spill everything and you don't want to hear it.

The archer responded firmly, "Yes I do. You're family and I care about my family. So if you need to talk… talk already."

Tony looked at him incredulously. "You're serious aren't you. Shit. Shit." he teared up and angrily wiped his eyes, "Shit fucker I need a drink for this. Come to the bar if you want." He walked across the room to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "Want anything?"

"Sure. Screwdriver, heavy on the vodka."

Tony grinned, "Now that I can do."

The men sat down at the bar with their drinks, and mulled over their thoughts in the silence, Clint waiting for Tony to speak, and Tony trying to think of where to start. Finally he spoke. "My dad sucked. He never abused me or anything. I always had what I needed. But I don't think he ever loved me. He was always tied up in work, it drove mom to drink, and then they died, so I've got daddy issues." he laughed hollowly "I guess that's what started it. The cutting. It made me feel like I was there even when he made me feel like I didn't exist. I think I was twelve. The older I got the more I did it you know, and drinking.. Well you just have to watch the news to see how that got. I tried to find myself y'know." he took a long drink of whiskey. "Never worked. Not with anything except science that is. Making shit. It helps too but I guess it's kind of like with alcohol, I got addicted to the feeling. Of being in pain. Fighting helps too but it's not the same. I mean… I guess that's kind of it right."

Clint was silent for a long time. "No. Why didn't you turn to any of us?"

He sighed. "I didn't want to burden you guys. You don't need to deal with my bullshit. It's my problem to deal with, not yours."

"You're wrong you know." Tony gave him a strange look. "Really. We're your family. Your problems are our problems just like our problems are yours. We're tied together now."

"I guess you want me to stop or some shit."

"Kinda. Or at least tell someone when you do it. Just so we know what's going on. Okay?"

"... Sure birdbrain."