The Pain You Never Really Heal From

Author: A friend who was raped several times told me you never really heal from the pain of it. As a victim of
sexual assault I know this to be true as well. Contains extremely sensative material.

"Your turn Agent Barton." Doctor Banner said gently. Natasha had slept through having her knee and ankle wrapped. She had tensed and stirred when Banner had worked on her temple and gently dabbed at her busted lip. But under Clint's watchfull gaze she had slept peacefully.

"Tasha you gotta move baby."he whispered in Russian. She responded best to her native language when she was waking up. She moved a bit, dropping her nose against his arm that was around the front of her shoulders. After settling down she had wound up with her spine against his rib cage and her neck turned just enough to rest her cheek against his arm.

"Time to move?"she yawned, responding in the same. Her accent's thicker with sleep but he understands her just fine none the less.

"Medical." her reminded her, flexing his shooting hand carefully. From fingertip to wrist is sore. If there wasn't an arrow and/or in his hand these past few days it was a gun... nonestop. It wasn't the first time but it still hurt the same every time.

"I'd like to lay him down on the couch. It will make it easier to tend to his wounds." Banner told her. Niether Tasha or Clint miss the way he looks at her. Banner, like so many other men, ended up attracted to her body. She has always been attractive and she's used it to her advantage a thousand times. However they both know that Banner would not try to move on her. He either lacked the confidence or didn't trust himself with her.

Natasha slides to the arm of the couch and settles in. "He did a good job." she notes. Her foot and knee don't hurt much to move... not nearly as much as they did before.

"Didn't take him long either. You were out maybe twenty minutes." Clint agreed. Twenty minutes she had been vulnerable but not so much because he had looked after her. As he had for years. As he had for almost a decade. Their eyes met, blue grey and forest green, then they were both lost in a world that belonged to them and them alone. Years of memories resided there: good, bad and somewhere in between. Years of sex, secrets and injuries, hidden away where nobody (not even Loki and for that Clint was grateful) could corrupt them.

"Vest off please and any under shirts as well." Banner said, breaking them out of their private world.

Clint's eyes left Tasha's and flicked around the room, his personal tell that he was nervous. Last time he had been shirtless in a room of strangers, Loki had decided to make an example of him. He had ordered to shoot Fury in the head, not the bulletproof armor but he had refused the command to kill Fury. He knew his superior was the only man who could find a way to stop Loki. He was able to pull the strings and pool the proper resources to gather the Avengers and make them work together. "Clint." Tasha whispered, as she touched his face as she tried to reassure him. He flinched from her touch and his head swung towards the door at the sound of footsteps. There stood Captain America in civilian clothes, looking as if he had just gotten done working out in the gym and not fighting an alien race led by a god with an overly inflated ego. It made Clint sick.

"What did Loki do to you Agent Barton?" Cap asked gently.

Clint ground his teeth together and almost smarted off but he bit his tongue (just barely). The pain from his injuries was fueling his temper and he knew better than to be an asshole when he was hurt. He said alot of things he didn't mean. His father and brother had been the same way... except they lacked his self control. "You wanna know what Loki did to me Cap?" he asked, getting to his feet. His body protested the very thought of getting up but he ignored it. "He made an example out of me. Used me to show Selvig and all the rest what happens when you disobey him." he growled, forcing his hands to unzip his vest and let it slip to the floor. The black wife beater he wore under it was covered in blood (some of it his own), dirt, ash, sweat and had rips all along the back. Loki had not allowed any of them to eat, sleep, shower or change clothes.

Every head in the room swiveled in his direction when he let the wife beater drop to the floor. The archer was just as attractive as his female counterpart. While Tasha has long legs, a slender waist and ample cleavage, Clint was broad shouldered and stocky with an amazing set of abs. "And that gentlemen is what SHIELD turns you into, a very attractive but cruel as hell killing machine. If you need another example, look at Widow." Tony said, motioning first to Clint then to Natasha. Clint smirked at the billionare's attempt at humor.

"I thought you said he was straight as a ruler." Clint said, looking at Tasha.

"Every ruler had a little curve and each one tapers off at some point. I'd guess his tapers off at 7 or 8 inches." Tasha chuckled

"You are mean." Clint admitted as he turned slowly to expose his back to Banner. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Everyone had known about the glass but the multitude of other injuries was alarming. His back was smeared with blood from gashes and what looked like scratches on his shoulder blades. His entire rip cage on his left side was bruised, evidence of potentionally broken ribs. The most disgusting and disturbing were the bites marks on his shoulders blades and the finger shaped bruises on his hips. A shudder raced up his spine as he felt everyone's eyes on him, cataloging the injuries.

"My brother... Loki..." Thor whispered, letting Mjolnir slid from his hand to the floor. The sound it made when it touched the floor made them all jump and Clint flinched. He ground his teeth together, wishing he could go home to his apartment and hide out there to let his wounds heal. But he knew there was no chance in hell he was gonna get out of the Tower without letting Banner take care of him.

"Rape." Tasha said. It was not a question but a statement. She found it hard to believe that anyone could force Clint to do anything and yet... his behaviour screamed that something was terribly wrong.

"The body was semi willing but the soul was not." he whispered, glancing over his shoulder gingerly. The looks on everyone else's faces ranged from sympathy (Tasha) to rage (Thor). He knew that once he was healed he wanted to find Loki, tear him open from throat to groin and let his guts spill all across the New York City skyline. The others could do what they wanted as long as he got to spill Loki's guts.

"Lay down please Agent Barton. In whatever way is most comfortable for you. Miss Romanoff could you keep him still and calm please?" Banner asked gently.

"Clint." Tasha whispered, sliding down onto the couch. He looked at her briefly and her heart hurt at what she saw. In that moment he looked worse than he had in the helicarrier. He wasn't broken... he wasn't unmade... he was close to shattering into a thousand pieces that would scatter on the wind like feathers. Slowly she reached for him, grabbing his wrist very gently and whispered, "You asked if I knew what it was like to be broken... to be unmade. You should have said you were so close to shattering."

"Not a toy that can be fixed. More like a sheet of glass after it's been shot with a hundred bullets. All that's left are tiny pieces. Like the ones in my arms." he muttered.

"Glass can be repaired or replaced." she told him. He didn't look at her as he lay down on the couch with his head in her lap. It was the most comfortable position for him given his injuries but it also meant he didn't have to look at anyone. He didn't speak or move when Banner tended to the scratch and bite marks. The bruises on his hips would heal themselves in time. The gashes and wounds from the glass however were more difficult to tend to. A particularly nasty gash or deeply embedded piece of glass made him bury his forehead against Tasha's leg and she let him dig his fingertips into her hand. But he didn't make a sound. Loki had seen him at his worst, had preyed upon his greatest fear: being helpless and had intended to break him.

*Flashback*

Not even the endorphins from when his body had betrayed him could make Clint any less aware of the pain he was in. His back throbbed in agony: scratches, bite and gashes left there was by Loki and that damn staff of his. He growled deep in his throat and tried to force himself up to his feet. The motion alone sent a new wave of pain through his hips, thighs and ass. He had been tortured before, several times but this... this was a whole new level of pain. Rape was nothing he had been trained for... neither was a egotistic god who had traveled through the "realms" to get to Earth or Midgard (as he called it). It left him hurting in places he didn't know he could hurt. Slowly he sank back down, panting as he tried to force the pain away. He wasn't stupid. He knew the damage that had been done. He reconized the hot fluid seeping down the back of his thighs. Muscles were torn, badly. That would take time to heal, time he probably didn't have. "You are brave archer. And strong. I was correct in choosing you." Loki's voice said from somewhere nearby. He lifted his head, silently glaring up at the dark haired god. "Defiant. I like that. But you do not appreciate the marks of your new king's favor?" Loki purred, crouching down in front of him.

"Who the fuck would appreciate being raped!? You egotisitic, sick, dillusional, son of a bitch!" Clint shouted in his face. Phil had always warned him that his temper and smart mouth would be the death of him someday. The death of him... not yet. It had certainly gotten him stabbed, beaten, shot, strangled, almost drowned, dumped on the side of a road in hostile territory.

"What was that you were saying my Hawk?" Loki asked, touching the tip of his staff to Clint's heart.

"Whatever pleases you my king." Clint's voice said as his eyes turned electric blue and his body rose to stand. In his head, Clint was seething in rage.

*Flashback*

"Anything else I should have a look at?" Banner asked as he motioned for Clint to sit up. It was time to check the severity of the archer's bruised or possibly broken ribs.

"Haven't bled since the day after." Clint whispered. He had known the unspoken question in the doctor's gaze. He flinched when the other man's hands touched his bruised side.

"What's the verdict Doctor Banner?" Tasha asked once Banner finished wrapping Clint's ribs.

"You both need to give yourselves time to heal. A couple of weeks at the least. More for your back Agent Barton." Banner told them as he wiped his hands clean on a towel Tony had tossed him.

"Doubt Fury will give us that long." Clint chuckled darkly.

"He will. I'll make sure of it." Steve told him. While Tony had left the room to talk with Pepper and Thor had flown off to examine the damage his brother had done to the city, Steve had remained behind. He had watched Banner work on Clint, the way a commander would do for one of his soldiers that he respected deeply. Clint's blue grey eyes snapped to the soldier but his expression was unreadable.

"You've got no reason to give a damn about either of us." Clint told him.

"Fighting a war against an alien race and a so called god who believes it's his birthright to rule our world isn't enough?" Steve asked with a slight smirk.

"Might be." Clint said with a chuckle.