A/N: 2012 winner of NaNoWriMo contest and exclusively Beta'd by the wonderful ladygris.

Thanks,

~Sandy

Avengers

From Time to Time

Chapter 14

Just before Hill lost consciousness, the pressure on her windpipe disappeared and she was able to draw in great gulps of air. She coughed a few times then a hand covered in red and gold metal came into her line of sight to help her stand. Stark had retracted his visor so his face was visible. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Always a pleasure to give a lady a hand." He gave her a salute then just as quickly, his smile turned to irritation, his left hand came up, the bright of the repulsor hurling several armed men into the walls knocking them unconscious. "Some people never learn. I'm gonna head down to the computer room. JARVIS?"

"Accessing now, sir." There was a pause. "There are several layers of encryption that will need…behind you, sir!"

The suit looked unwieldy, but Stark made movement look fluid as he spun and disposed of yet another squad. "Thanks for the heads up."

"You're welcome. If you would make your way to the computer room, I will need your assistance very shortly."

Stark nodded to Hill. "Duty calls." He clomped away and Hill brought her weapon up to take out another guard. There were fewer coming now than in the beginning so they were making progress.

Fury ejected the magazine from his weapon and shoved another home. He squeezed off five more shots then got to his feet, turning to watch Natasha take out the last three guards. One obstinate fellow refused to stay down. He reached for her and she jumped up to wrap her legs around his neck, twisted to the left and slammed him into the wall. With the last of the guards down, they could finally get back to the more important work of rescuing their comrades.

With a nod, Fury jogged down the hall and disappeared around a corner headed for the leader's office. Natasha and Hill followed taking the stairs to the third sublevel.

On the detention level, they found the main doors open as well as those of the cells. Hill went into the last cell on the right, took one look around and grinned. "Agent Romanoff." When Natasha joined her, Hill pointed at the table.

"Clint was here." Both women were in agreement because someone had made an obscene suggestion by spelling it out with elbow macaroni on the table top. It was dried and disgusting having been there at least overnight.

"He does have colorful vocabulary, doesn't he?" Hill quipped.

Natasha smirked and tapped her headset. "Romanoff to Fury. Barton, Marks and Alston aren't here. We're starting a room-by-room search of the entire floor."

The SHIELD director sounded as ticked off as ever. "Same here. The leader hasn't cleared out, the chopper is still on the pad and no vehicles have left the area since we arrived. They have to be on the grounds somewhere."

Hill joined the conversation. "I agree, sir. We'll work from here to get some answers and meet you at the main entrance in fifteen."

"Roger that. Fury out."

Turning to speak to Natasha, Hill found she'd slipped away without a sound. Not a surprise, but they were supposed to stay together. The dark-haired agent found her companion in a room down the hall leading away from the cells. A chair was bolted to the middle of the floor and had wrist, ankle and head restraints. A shelf with bizarre medical instruments displayed indicated that this was no ordinary interview room as did the blood stains on the chair and floor. Hill knew what Natasha was thinking because she was thinking it too. Clint must've been beaten and tortured in a room just like this one twelve years ago. But their biggest concern was whether he, Naomi, or Alston had been the recipient of the Consortium's special brand of hospitality. If so, who was it? Or had all of them been questioned? None of them? And where were they?

The last question was answered when the women turned toward the exit and saw the monitor. Only two of the panels were active. One showing the warped metal doors that had been part of the main entrance. The other showed Clint and another man fighting hand-to-hand in a clearing while Naomi sat on a stump watching with one hand over her mouth. Whenever the stranger got in a shot, the psychologist would wince and turn away, but just for a moment. A few minutes later, she got up, skirted the edge of the clearing and began rooting in some bushes coming up with a handgun.

Then, off to the right of the screen Alston came into view, a MP7 dangling from his neck and leaning a long branch as he limped over to Naomi's side. A makeshift bandage was tied around his upper left thigh and his pants were covered in blood.

"Where is that?" Hill asked.

"No idea." Natasha tapped her headset. "Stark? Tap into the surveillance system and access camera Juliet-three. Find out where it's located."

The billionaire's voice came through the PA rather than their headsets. "Roger that. It's one hundred yards east of the main entrance."

Fury checked in. "I've got the goods on the leader. And you're in for a surprise."

Stark was still on and added, "JARVIS has downloaded their database. We're dropping a virus that will wipe out all of their records and transfer all funds to charities in their names."

Fury again. "Their cover in the area was an anti-government militia. Make those charities incredibly embarrassing, like Greenpeace."

Natasha and Hill snorted and exchanged a look at Fury's scathing tone. "We're heading up. See you there." Stark and Fury were already waiting when they reached ground level. With Stark in the lead, they turned toward the exit. The group had just turned the last corner when one of the guards they'd dispatched earlier got to his knees and tossed a small metal canister in their direction.

~~O~~

Stark yelled, "Grenade!" His helmet slid into place as he pushed his companions to the floor and used his repulsors to keep the flames and debris from raining down on them. A few of the smaller pieces of concrete made it past, one chunk hitting Fury and leaving a bloody spot on his cheek. Dust filled the air making them cough. "Everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Natasha said sharply as she helped Hill stand. "But we're also trapped."

Scoffing, Stark said, "JARVIS, what's the best way out?"

"The way you came in, sir."

Fury stepped up next to the billionaire, his hand out, a wry grin in place. "After you, Iron Man."

"Stand back. This could get messy." Stark waited for Fury, Natasha and Hill to retreat around the corner then raised both hands. The particle beam pulverized the huge chunks blocking the hallway and entrance. Once he'd made it outside, his companions picked their way through the leftovers to his side.

~~O~~

Tired of waiting for Dietrich to make the first move, Clint considered throwing a half-hearted punch just to get things started, but that turned out not to be necessary. Overhead, he heard the distinctive sound of Stark's Iron Man armor rocketing through the air followed by the rumble of a quinjet's engines coming in for a landing providing just the distraction Clint needed.

He purposely took his eyes off of Dietrich to give the man an opening which he took full advantage of by rushing forward and taking a swing at Clint's jaw. The archer ducked out of the way and Dietrich ended up turned to the left leaving his side exposed. A fist to the ribs then an elbow to the back of the head made him stumble, but he righted himself, immediately going on the offensive.

Dietrich shifted his weight to his left foot, lashing out with his right and catching Clint in the stomach. "I bet it's driving you mad knowing that I've been with your woman."

Clint didn't glance in Naomi's direction as he stated coolly, "It was her decision and had nothing to do with me."

"But doesn't it bother you that some other guy has been tapping that well?"

Clint didn't like Dietrich's tone or phrasing, but he couldn't let his emotions show or the other man would take advantage of it. "Naomi's a big girl and doesn't need anyone's permission or advice on who to spend time with."

Knowing what the other man was up to, Clint didn't rise to the bait Dietrich was casting into the water. He continued to defend himself from his attacks while Dietrich tried to goad him into reacting in anger, without thinking. "Surely you have an opinion."

Now Clint allowed one side of his mouth lift. "Always, but it's none of my business." Dietrich backed away from Clint giving both men more room to maneuver. What Clint really wanted to do was check on Naomi to see how she was handling all of this, but he refused to break eye contact.

"So you have no regrets about the last twelve years?"

"More than anyone will ever know."

A quick turn on his left foot, Dietrich lashed out with his right. Clint caught the leg and twisted. Dietrich used that momentum to spin and kick with the free leg, forcing Clint to release him or be hit in the face. Dietrich was on his feet again before Clint could press the advantage. "But the woman you were in love with was sleeping around. Most men would be at least a little pissed off."

"I have no right to be. You saw to that when you made me as an agent twelve years ago." With both hands at shoulder height, Clint blocked a punch aimed for his head, using his right elbow to smash Dietrich in the solar plexus. Using the same hand, he grabbed Dietrich's neck and brought his face to his knee. The strain of the fight sharpened his words. He was outraged, but didn't want Dietrich to see. The former FBI agent's eyes widened in shock, and Clint smirked with malicious glee. "I remember everything now. It wasn't just me, Tiny and George in that interrogation room. You were there too, getting your own shots in, but mostly just watching Tiny and George work me over day after day." Clint also remembered something else, but he'd keep that to himself for now.

Dietrich used his bent position to ram a shoulder into Clint's stomach to which Clint retaliated by slamming his knee into the other man's stomach, following it up with a right cross, left cross and an uppercut. Dietrich stumbled backward momentarily stunned, but it didn't last. The Consortium leader's leg came up and around, intent on knocking Clint's head off.

Clint ducked and rolled back to his feet in time to dodge a wild swing then another kick. Grabbing Dietrich's leg, he used it to control him then knocked the supporting leg from underneath. Dietrich landed on his back, rolled onto his stomach and pushed to his hands and knees.

Without a pause, Clint connected the toe of his boot with Dietrich's ribs. The other man grunted in pain and he flopped onto his right side, holding his left arm close to his body.

Panting from his exertions, Clint retreated to see what Dietrich would do next. He started to get to his feet then collapsed with a moan, unable to continue. Though he knew better, Clint had to see Naomi, to know that she was alright. While his eyes sought her out, Dietrich grabbed handfuls of dirt, rolled onto his back and threw it in Clint's face temporarily blinding him.

"Ah!" Quickly brushing the dirt from his face and blinking, Clint stumbled a few steps before Dietrich tripped him. Dietrich flipped him onto his stomach then dropped to one knee with the other in the middle of Clint's back to hold him in place. Grabbing the hair at Clint's crown, he pulled his head up so that his throat was exposed and placed the point of a knife at his jugular. Unable to see, Clint didn't dare move, but that didn't mean he couldn't continue the fight. "I'd've thought a knife to the jugular was too quick for you. Don't you wanna make me suffer? Maybe humiliate me some more?"

"Shut up! You and I are gonna get to our feet and calmly walk over to the helipad where you will fly me away from here."

"Not gonna happen. You…"

The crunch of footsteps in the underbrush came near, stopping just a few feet away. Clint prepared to defend himself, stopping in mid motion when a voice shouted, "Let him go!"

~~O~~

From her place on the stump, Naomi watched Dietrich and Clint circling each other neither willing to throw the first punch. A sound overhead caused her to look up and while she was searching the skies, the two operatives had begun to fight. Dietrich's warning about interfering echoed in her mind. But how could he follow through on his threat to kill her if he didn't have a weapon?

Getting to her feet, she slowly made her way to the opposite side of the clearing to where she'd seen Dietrich stash his weapons. She examined the MP7 just long enough to figure out how to remove the magazine. A cursory glance told her there had to be at least forty rounds. She shoved it into her back pocket just in case then picked up the Sig. Now that she knew how to handle even if she wasn't that good at it. She had no idea where Alston was, and if the situation didn't go in Clint's favor, it would be up to her to stop Dietrich from killing him.

And just as she feared, Dietrich had somehow managed to gain the upper hand. There was no way she would let this rogue FBI agent kill the man she'd never stopped loving. Raising the Sig to eye level, she waited for the two men to stand and aimed for the center of Dietrich's forehead. He deserved to die slowly and in the most painful way possible. If she got a clear shot, she'd take it. In the stomach so it took a long time for him to die.

Earlier, when she heard Troy, a man she'd once cared enough for to consider marrying, however briefly, confess that he'd been the one to turn Clint in to the Consortium, she'd wanted to kill him then and there. Claw his eyes out with her bare hands, but she hadn't been given the chance. Well, now she would get her revenge. "Let him go!"

~~O~~

The sound of fighting gave Alston a direction. Though they were less than thirty yards away, it took some time for him to make the trip even with the aid of a sturdy branch. By the time the clearing came into sight, he was exhausted. The blood loss, running for his life, the fight with the guard and the long walk back had taken its toll on him. His leg was bleeding again and if he fell down now, he'd likely not be able to get up again. He'd have to be carried and didn't want that.

The fighting ended abruptly and when he stopped at the edge of the clearing, Alston witnessed an alarming sight. Dietrich had a knife to Clint's throat and Naomi was aiming a gun at Dietrich. He didn't know how that had happened and didn't really care at this point. All he wanted was for this nightmare to be over with. And if that was in any way how Clint had been feeling for more than a decade then he had even more respect for the archer. Inwardly he winced. Both men were covered in scrapes and red spots that would be bruises before morning. And by the way Clint was moving, he likely had bruised or cracked ribs.

As badly as he wanted to sit down, Alston knew he had to neutralize the situation before it got even more out of hand. In the same gentle voice he'd used when Clint suffered the flashback, he edged to Naomi's side, adding an easy-going smile. "Hey, Naomi. What's goin' on? Catch yourself a bad guy?"

"Stay back! He's hurt too many people, and it ends here!"

He didn't show his reaction to her harsh words. "I get it. He took something from you. But he should pay for his crimes in a court of law. If you kill him now, it'll be murder. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in prison for him?" He gestured to Dietrich and realized the man was no longer kneeling over Clint. Dietrich had risen to his feet, the knife in his hand held away from his body.

At Naomi's gesture, he tossed the knife away, and Clint palmed it.

"Shut up, Trevor!" Faster than Alston had thought possible, Naomi pulled the slide back to load a round into the firing chamber, her aim never wavering.

"No. I won't let you do this. Maybe Bishop does deserve to die, and if he's convicted, that could be his fate, but not this way. Not by vigilante justice."

"It's better justice than he deserves."

Seeing that being reasonable wasn't working, Alston tried for humor. "Can't say I don't agree with you. Just out of curiosity, what's gonna be your plea? Temporary insanity? 'Cause I gotta say you look just a little crazy right now."

"Wouldn't you be? I've been kidnapped twice, and both times were his fault." But she was thinking things over. Alston edged closer one step at a time, reaching out to wrap his hand around the muzzle of the Sig. When he tugged, she let go.

Clint had come to stand next to Naomi. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him, taking a deep breath before stepping into his embrace. With more tenderness than he'd thought Clint was capable of, he held Naomi close, whispering softly to her that everything would be alright, that she was safe now.

Alston's relief at resolving the situation without someone being seriously hurt was short-lived. Dietrich chuckled then began to laugh, his face twisted into a sneer. "Stupid woman! You're weak and a coward. I've always know it. Why do you think I cheated on you while we were together? Shelby was twice the woman you are, especially in bed. Having sex with you was like ******* a damn stuffed animal. All you ever did was lay there. If you'd showed even the slightest hint of passion…"

Alston's genial attitude vanished. Eyes narrowed, he lifted the Sig and aimed right between Dietrich's eyes. He also saw Clint tense and prepare for another fight. From the corner of his eye, he saw Clint take the knife from his back pocket and flip it so he was holding the blade ready to throw it if need be. "Maybe she wasn't able to kill you, but I've done it before and I'm willing to do jail time. However, I expect to get off with just a slap on the wrist, if that, once the judge reads the list of offenses you've committed. And I am defending a woman's honor, after all."

Clint spoke up for the first time since Alston arrived on the scene, his tone cold and expression deadly. "Yeah? How d'you figure that?" His question might have sounded clueless, but it wasn't. He seemed to be trying to figure a legitimate way to murder the guy and make it look like a righteous kill.

"There's only the four of us and while we were having our little tea party, someone turned off the camera." Now the FBI agent was grinning. "So you see, I could've let Naomi kill you and this would all be over, but then we wouldn't have the immense pleasure of watching you go to prison. And not some cushy minimum security facility with tennis courts and saunas. We're talking Raiford, Sing Sing, Attica, maybe even Gitmo."

Searching through the pile of weapons Dietrich had left in the bushes, Clint brought out a pair of handcuffs, letting them dangle from one finger. "So what's it gonna be, Bishop? Prison or…"

With a long sigh, Dietrich submitted to having his hands cuffed behind his back and being none too gentle about it. But before the group could make their way back to the compound, the whoosh of Stark's Iron Man suit passed over head as he circled once then landed within the clearing. The helmet retracted to show Stark's smiling face. "You had a party and didn't invite the rest of the team? Pepper will not be a happy camper, Legolas."

His blue-gray eyes barely starting to twinkle, Clint shrugged and added with a tired grin, "What? You didn't get my Twit?

"That's Tweet, Legolas, and we've been a little out of touch, what with taking down a national crime syndicate, rescuing prisoners, destroying the compound of said crime syndicate and almost being buried under tons of concrete."

Fury stepped forward to make his presence known. "Looks like you gentlemen, and lady, have everything well in hand."

~~O~~

Naomi had been quiet, too quiet. She knew it and knew Clint knew it as well. She'd gone into his arms, and though she hadn't cried, her body had shaken with the force of her anger, fear and the massive amounts of adrenaline coursing through her system. For something to do, she led Alston over to the stump to examine his wound, her head coming up sharply at the sound of Fury's voice.

There was one last bit of business she had to take care of. "Be right back," she told Alston then stomped over to where Natasha and Hill had taken possession of Dietrich. "I have something to say to Troy before you take him away."

She took a deep breath, let it out then inhaled once more. And just like that, it was all gone. The emotional pain, the fear, the rage. Opening her mouth to speak, she thought better of it and snapped it shut again. Dietrich…Troy, she reminded herself again, scoffed at her as if to reiterate his earlier assessment of her personality and their relationship. With a growl, she placed a hand on either of his shoulders, dug her fingernails into his skin and brought her right knee up hard right into his genitals. The men cringed and the women did nothing to hide their amusement.

His hands cuffed behind his back and unable to break his fall, Dietrich slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, his knees up to his chest and moaning. Unsympathetic, Natasha and Hill jerked him upright again, Hill hauling him in the direction of the quinjet. He forced her to stop, turning to look at the faces of the real life heroes. "You are such an a******, Fury! The position of SHIELD's director should be mine! If I'd been in charge, that whole debacle with Loki and the invasion wouldn't have happened. OW! Sonofa*****!"

Dietrich was so angry he hadn't noticed Naomi advancing on him again. She balled up her fist and popped him on his already sore nose. "That's Director Fury to you!"

She didn't hear Clint whisper to Stark with pride, "That's my girl! Whoa!"

Naomi had seized Clint's hand in a strong grip towing him behind her. "Come on!"

After a few steps, he found his footing. "Where're we going?"

"You're taking me home. Now!"

Clint, having recovered some of his normal good humor, grinned over his shoulder at Stark and Alston. "Yes, ma'am!"

TBC