Well, I am so happy for all the reviews I got. They did spur me on and now this story is complete. Actually, this isn't the last chapter yet. I still have two more. But for me it is done, so I can now focus on story two! ^_^ So I guess I can finish this one for Christmas! Lucky me, and you readers! ^_^

When the Quinjet landed on the Helicarrier, it was surprisingly Tony that was the first to leave. He normally hung out in the jet for a few extra minutes, even if he had somewhere to be. But the others figured Pepper put a good scare in him and so they ignored his unusual behavior and focused on the other person acting strangely.

Clint, another who normally stayed longer in the Quinjet, was the second person to leave. Without a word, he just got up and took off. Not really knowing where he was going, Natasha was quick on his heels. She didn't say a word to him. Just followed.

Steve and Bruce waited in the Quinjet with Fury for an extra minute. Fury stared at the receding backs of his top assassins. He was worried. Wouldn't admit to it. But he was. Of all the agents to have something like this happen too, Fury wondered why it had to be Clint. The director knew of the young man's past. Knew of every bit of pain that the archer had gone through. And that was why he didn't blame Clint for anything that happened.

"Director Fury?" Steve softly asked. Fury looked to the living legend. His normally sharp glare was now sporting a concerned glance. Steve sighed. "What happens now?"

"We talk to him. Find out what happened and get him over it. The Avengers need Hawkeye back," Fury admitted. Steve nodded as he looked down the hall that Clint had vanished from. Fury followed his gaze. Standing at the end of the hallway was an agent who had lost his girlfriend in the Helicarrier attack. Fury tensed as he watched the agent. Bruce noticed the man staring after Clint as well.

"Is there somewhere else we can take him? I mean, we all did head to Miami for a reason," Bruce pointed out.

"Barton has an apartment near Brooklyn. Romanoff will more than likely bring him there soon," Fury responded. Bruce nodded. He wasn't sure about going to a place that S.H.I.E.L.D knew about, but it would be better for Clint to return to somewhere he knew. Fury groaned lightly when the new found silence was broken by a loud buzzing noise. Steve and Bruce focused on the director as he dug a phone out of his pocket. "What?"

"Sir, are you back at HQ?" Hill's voice sounded back, without a hint of hesitation at his biting voice. Fury frowned.

"Yes. Still in the landing bay, why?" he answered. Hill sighed in what sounded like relief. Surprised, Fury left the Quinjet and took off toward the bridge.

"Agent Sitwell would like to speak to you," she replied. Fury growled lightly. Oh boy, did he want to have a few words with Sitwell.

"On my way to the bridge now," was he last statement before hanging up and vanishing down a different hallway then the assassins went. Left behind, and still on the Quinjet, were Steve and Bruce. They both traded a look, wondering where to go from there. Neither one wanted to go find Tony. They also didn't know where Clint and Natasha were headed. So they could either wander around aimlessly or follow Fury. But for now, they just got off the Quinjet and looked around, hopelessly lost.

"I don't need a babysitter," Clint grounded out as he disappeared into his small closet of a room on the Helicarrier. Natasha sighed, rubbing her bruising arm that she had used to catch the door before it slammed closed. She waited by the doorway, knowing there wasn't much room in the whole place for both of them. Clint was heading toward the bed that was on the far side of the room. All he wanted to do right now was lay down in the bed, fall asleep and never wake up.

"Clint, what happened?" Natasha asked when she watched her partner flop depressingly down onto his hard mattress. She winced was she heard the thump of something hitting a hard surface. When Clint reached up to his forehead, she guessed he must of hit it on the wall which was acting like a headrest.

"Don't want to talk about it," Clint mumbled into his pillow as a new headache began to sprout. He sighed in content at the pain. As much as he wasn't a narcissus or anything. It was just that focusing on the pain meant he didn't think about his guilt for following Loki. Natasha moved further into the room and shut the door. Clint slowly moved one eye out of the pillow to look at her. She had her hands on her hips, her right foot was tapping, and her eyes were narrowed. He sighed again. "Nat, please. Just drop it."

"You should tell me the problems. It will help," she countered. Clint frowned. He used to use those words on her whenever she dropped into a memory from the Red Room. Having them tossed back at him made him realize how annoying they were. With a deep groan, he rolled onto his side, facing her.

"Did it ever help you?" he questioned, believing the answer to be a negative. He was more than stunned when she nodded in confirmation. Growling at her positive response, Clint sat up. "What do you want to hear?"

"What happened with the Council?" she pressed. Clint snorted. That was the easy one. If that was all she wanted, he'd be fine telling her that.

"Questions to be answered. Just a normal debrief," he snapped. Natasha's eyes narrowed even further. She could tell there was something else. But how could she get at it if he wasn't going to willingly give up the answer?

"What about before them? Did Sitwell do anything to you?" Clint chuckled darkly. All he could think about was Loki. What the god had told him. And even worse, what the god had done to him.

"No."

"You were missing for a little over eleven hours or so. What happened?" she added. Clint stiffened. When he didn't speak for another few seconds, Natasha grew worried. "Clint?"

He still didn't speak. Wondering if he disappeared into his mind, Natasha stepped forward. Clint didn't react. Frowning, she kneeled down in front of him. He didn't even twitch. Sighing, she placed a hand on his knee. She didn't even a second to comprehend what happened next before she found herself on the floor, Clint on top of her and a sharp pain in her chin. Clint's grey eyes were dark in anger and something else. Something that looked like shame.

"Clint?" Natasha called before his hands suddenly found themselves on her throat. As he began to squeeze the life out of her, Natasha tried to push him off. She scratched at his arms, reached for his face, and tried to get her legs up in between them. Nothing helped, his archery arms were stronger than her. Tears forming in the corner of her eyes, Natasha gasped. She was now beginning to blackout. "Clint!"

Clint came too slowly. When he noticed he was looking down at Natasha, he frowned. Then he spotted his hands tightly grasping her neck. Before he could back up, her eyes began to roll back into her head. Crying out in anguish, Clint nearly leaped off his partner. Once she started coughing, Clint rushed to the door and left.

"Cl-int."

Clint rushed through the busy halls of the Helicarrier as he tried to escape the idea that he was trying to kill Natasha. His grief was near overwhelming as he blindly shifted down hallways until he began to grow slightly tired. Growling angrily at himself, Clint focused on his tired frame as he slowed down to walking. Normally, the archer could run laps around the large 'boat.' But right now, he was still recovering from Loki's mind control, the battle and now even the torture he had endured. He was not only physically exhausted but he was mentally exhausted. All Clint wanted to do now was find a dark corner, curl up in it, fall asleep and never wake up.

"Sir, I swear, they told me if I didn't get him, they'd kill him! I was trying to save him!" Sitwell's voice rang down the halls to Clint's ears. Frowning, Clint looked to where the sound could be traveling from. Just above him was a vent cover. Staring at it, the archer ran through his mental map of the whole system. It took him only moments to realize this vent was connected directly to the one in Fury's office.

"So that's how the rumors start," Clint muttered to himself before jumping up to knock the cover off enough so he could grab the ledge. Jumping again, he caught the side and pulled up. His just about made it in the system and replaced the cover by the time Natasha rushed by looking rather flustered. Clint scowled at his partner before turning down the small space towards the director's room.

"What do you mean by that, Agent?" Fury growled low as Clint neared. Noting that he hadn't missed anything, the archer assumed that Sitwell's earlier comment must have made the director hesitate. It was a little surprising considering nothing normally made the hardened director pause.

"I mean that my orders from the Council stated that he was to come in alive while everyone's else read alive or dead. I was protecting him, I swear," Sitwell told him. Clint scoffed until he realized he didn't remember Sitwell finding him. Nor could he remember the older agent handing him over to the Council. He had blacked out after Loki and then came too before the Council. 'Maybe he was protecting me.' Clint thought to himself.

"Oh? Protecting him by turning him over to the people who, only hours before, ordered his death?" Fury calmly asked. Clint heard Sitwell sharply intake a breath.

"I didn't know. They didn't inform me of that," Sitwell responded. Clint frowned. He couldn't understand why the agent's orders were so different from what the Council so obviously wanted. "But sir, something happened to Barton before I reached him. He was wandering around Harlem in an almost comatose-like state. Hell, I was able to walk right up to him and place my hand on his shoulder without him even looking in my direction."

"That can't be right."

"Sir, I swear. Barton was not himself when I brought him before the Council. It was almost like he had been tortured," Sitwell reported. Clint shook his head of memories as images of Loki filled his mind. He didn't want to hear any more of this. That was enough. The archer knew what happened and really didn't want to talk about it.

Slowly and silently, Clint backed his way out of the vent shaft. As soon as he was back to where he started from, Clint lightly kicked open the cover and shimed out. He dropped to the floor and just about put the cover in place when he heard them.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the bastard traitor. Looks like we might get our revenge after all." Clint sighed as he leaned his forehead against the cold metal wall before him. He knew the voice was an agent who had lost his partner during the attack. The same attack that Clint initiated. He was screwed.

"Shit."

So, can anyone guess why I had to have Tony leave? Drop me a review and answer. Reviewing helps me writing and even though I've announced that this story is soon to be over, I do have others that these reviews can help spur. Anyways, review, favorite, follow, whatever! See you next chapter! ^_^