Chapter 7

Tony felt like he would never be able to move with all the guilt weighing him down. It was his idea, after all, to put Clint in the coma. Because of that, Clint was being forced to remember God knows what, and see things he could only dream of. Clint actually was dreaming of it. He sat heavily beside the man he'd come to care for, much more than anything he could ever imagine. With Clint he could let his guard down, he felt safe and just the fact that Clint returned his feelings, sent warmth flooding through him.

He dabbed Clint's brow, slick with sweat. He couldn't hate himself enough for this, and only wished that Clint would wake up. It had only been a half hour ago when Thor had informed them, Tony and Bruce, about Loki's magic proof cell. Since then, Bruce had rushed to the lab, trying to find some way to bring Clint out of his coma. And now that SHIELD was aware of Clint's condition, Fury was searching the globe for what could be attacking Clint. So far none of their searches had turned up anything.

Tony bowed his head, and gripped Clint's limp hand, and pressed it to his forehead. "Please Clint. Don't leave me alone. I need you more than you know." He whispered, and didn't feel the tear drop that had escaped his eye.

Clint looked around, and tried to control his breathing. He had been shifting through memories at such a fast pace, they were starting to run together with the same message: It's your entire fault. It had started with his confrontation of his brother, Trickshot, and the Swordsman. That memory had always been one of his worst, just because it was when he was betrayed by his own flesh and blood. He had always felt guilty sense then, thinking that maybe he could have been a better brother, or he could've stayed out of it. Maybe he wouldn't have lost his brother.

After that he had relived his parent's death. He hadn't remembered it in so long; even if it was the reason he had joined the circus. Seeing that scene again, after so many years, brought a fresh wave of pain, that he just didn't know how to deal with.

Clint finally looked around him, and paled. No… it couldn't be!

He was in a clearing like the one where he had first confronted his brother and his partners. It wasn't that big, but still provided enough space. He remembered it very well though; he still had nightmares about it. This was where he had been forced to kill Trickshot.

"Oh yes, little Hawk. You remember this place very well. This is where you killed your mentor. The man who took you in, the man who taught you everything you know! How do you repay him? You kill him! But I shouldn't be surprised, should I? That's all you do." The voice that had been tormenting him for so long drawled.

Clint looked around frantically. "Who are you!? What do you want from me!?" he cried desperately.

"I'm your worst nightmare Hawkeye. I know all of your little secrets, and all of your little hopes and dreams. Won't Tony be proud of what you've done? Killing your mentor? Killing your brother? Killing your parents? I wonder how you would feel to lose the man you love." This voice bit heatedly.

Clint was panting, but he felt like he was missing something. "What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well, what I'm talking about! You killed the man I loved! Now you will pay, and what better way, then to show you all of your failures… over and over and over again!" The voice said evilly.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" Clint screamed.

But he never received an answer. "Ah… I finally get to meet the little assassin. They call you Hawkeye now, don't they, Clint?" Trickshot's deep voice called from the other side of the clearing. Clint fought down all the pain he was feeling, and faced his mentor down.

Tony was still next to Clint when Bruce found him. "Tony, I'm sorry. But I've tried everything, and I don't have anything that will bring Clint out of his coma."

Tony looked up, and Bruce was surprised to see tears I his eyes. "It's all my fault Bruce." He whispered hoarsely, "It's my entire damn fault."

Bruce sighed. "Tony…"

Tony shook his head. "I pushed him to go into the damn coma, just because I was sure it was Loki! Now look at him! He's reliving God know what in that head of his! And I can't help." He finished and Bruce felt his heart break at the desolate look on Tony's face and the defeated posture. Tony had fallen for Clint hard, and this was killing him slowly.

He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry Tony. I don't know how you feel and can only dream of it. But don't give up hope yet. Clint is a fighter, and he's resourceful. Try talking to him; let him know that you're waiting for him."

Tony nodded slowly. Bruce squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, and left. Once Bruce had left, Tony turned towards Clint. He rested his head on Clint's arm, and just started to talk. "What is going on inside of that head of yours? I mean, come on. I have been waiting an hour for you to wake up, because I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours. God Clint, you stole my heart and for once… I don't want it back. I want you back, please Clint. Why do all the crazy things happen to you? I mean, first it was Loki… but I can't really blame you for that. Him and his stupid glowing sticks, but you survived. Please Clint, you have to survive, you have to come back to me. I… I love you."

Tony finally let the tears fall. Yes, he had admitted it. He was in love with the badass assassin, SHIELD agent, Avenger, named Hawkeye. The crazy thing was… he didn't care. He had always prided himself on his playboy attitude and reputation. Now that didn't matter to him, only Clint mattered.

Clint watched as the scene changed again. It was like a never ending cycle, one nightmare after the other. He had just been forced to kill Trickshot, that fight had been the most bloody he had ever been in. He had fought Trickshot and his ten goons for hours before he finally jammed his knife into his throat. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he held Trickshot as he died. He didn't notice the blood that was now covering him, Trickshot's blood. He held his mentor while he bled out, the man that had taught him how to shoot a bow, the man that had rescued him from starving. He had killed the last remaining string to his past.

He would never forget the grin that was on his mentor's face when he passed, even with all the blood leaking out of his mouth. He had mouthed three words that sent shivers down his spin: Just Like Me. He never forgot those words and they had haunted him for years.

Once the scene had finished changing, he stood in the practice area of the Circus. "Here we are again little hawk. What an ironic name. Hawks are such majestic creatures, birds of prey, dangerous and stunning. But look at you now, forced to relive all of your worst memories." The now familiar voice laughed.

"Who are you?!" Clint screamed, he wanted out of these nightmares, "What have I ever done to you!?"

"It was always you! I tried everything to get his attention! But he only had eyes for you! What's so special about you? I was even there before you! Yet he wouldn't notice me?" The voice shouted.

"What are you talking about?!" Clint cried. He didn't understand a single thing the voice was talking about. But the voice didn't answer. And just like that, the memory started. This was a memory Clint would have loved to forget. This was the first time Clint had been punished by Trickshot, for failing his task. All of the circus performers were given a task that went unnoticed by the ringmaster. Clint was to pickpocket and he refused to do it, he was only seven at the time.

"But Trickshot! Why do you have to go? I've wanted to talk to you for a while!" a voice sounded, and Clint remembered the voice vaguely.

"Not now Joshua, I have to deal with Hawkeye." Trickshot's impatient voice sounded and Clint finally remembered. Joshua griffin, he was the guy that followed Trickshot around like a lost puppy dog.

"What's so special about him?" Joshua asked bitterly.

"He has potential. Now get outta here." Trickshot said and pushed into the tent that held Clint, "Well, Hawkeye. You've been causing trouble for swordsman, and he doesn't like that. I thought I trained you better than that."

"I'm not gonna pickpocket people! It's wrong." Clint replied defiantly.

Trickshot just grinned. "Well if that's how it's gonna be…" He trailed off and swiftly grabbed Clint. Clint tried to fight back but Trickshot was too big. He tied his protégé to a post, and stood back. "You make a good dummy Clint." He said and pulled out his own bow, "Now don't scream to loud, or I might have to make this longer."

For an hour Trickshot fired arrow after arrow, hitting all the non vital spots on his body. He couldn't remember when he had felt so much pain. This method of punishment was Trickshot's favorite and the Swordsmen had him use it almost every week. Trickshot untied Clint and let him flop to the ground. "You better do what the swordsman tells you too." He said and left.

The memory faded and Clint stood a fog. "That's all you deserve, little Hawk: punishment. You would think you would learn, death after death, and yet still you live. You don't deserve to live, after all the deaths you've caused, after all the lives you destroyed. How many lives will you continue to destroy? You don't deserve happiness. Tony will never love you, like you love him." The voice bit out maliciously.

Clint just stood there, numb. He didn't understand how he could feel this in his own mind, or how this was happening. He just stood there; of course the voice was right. Tony would never love him, he didn't deserve happiness, he was a monster. A killer. The fog around him grew dark and seemed to be swallowing him.

"Please Clint, you have to survive, you have to come back to me. I… I love you." Clint recognized that voice, it was Tony. Tony loved him?

The fog began to lift and the malicious voice was back. "No! It's a figment of your imagination! Don't listen to it!"

"Please, wake up." Tony's voice whispered, almost brokenly. And Clint's heart clenched. HE was hurting Tony, he couldn't let this continue. "I'm done playing these games! I will find you, and I will make sure you rot in hell!" Clint shouted and the fog broke, and a bright light shone through.

Tony watched Clint, holding his hand. Clint had been under for almost an hour, and he was starting to lose hope. He felt numb all over, thinking about never being able to see Clint, all because some bastard wanted to break him. He wiped the last of his tears away, it had been a long time since he cried, and even longer since he cared this much about someone. "Please, wake up."

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed Clint's hand tense, before relaxing. Tony shot up, almost not daring to hope. "Clint?"

Clint's head moved to the side, facing Tony, but his eyes remained closed. "Clint? Come on, baby. Open up those beautiful eyes for me. Please."

Clint's eyes remained closed and Tony leaned back, feeling like his world had crashed. He closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears from leaking out of his eyes. He almost missed the softly spoken. "Tony?"