Yeah, I know. Not the most imaginative chapter titles, recently. Well, they'll get better again, soon. Promise. I guess they don't really matter, either, as long as the chapters them selves are good, right? ;)

Thanks for all the favourites! This is my most-favourited and most-followed story, so far. Yay!

… And Others Go Right

Tony leaned against the wall next to the door, arms folded across his chest, and watched Barton sleep. The archer lay on his side. His breathing was shallow but even. Tony had tried to check out his injuries as soon as they had landed in the dilapidated building he had chosen as their hideout. The bruises had been easy enough to see. There was a pretty large one on Barton's left side – the side he was now resting on. Tony suspected he had broken some bones. At least one rib, judging from how Barton had winced when he had touched that particular spot. Maybe a concussion, too. Just as Tony had arrived on the scene, one of those thugs had scored a kick to Barton's head.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let him sleep, Tony mused. But they had almost half a day until they had to be at the rendezvous point. And sleeping Barton was better than merrily babbling Barton. Tony hoped that, by the time he woke up, the effects of whatever drugs they had given him would have worn off. He really, really hoped so because some of the stuff Barton had rambled on about had been kinda – disturbing. He had already suspected that the archer's childhood had been less than ideal, but actually hearing it from the man himself was something completely different. Judging from what Barton had said, Tony's own botched childhood seemed like paradise.

The archer frowned and murmured something.

Tony wondered if he was dreaming of the bible-nuts he had mentioned. He pushed off of the wall and went over to the window to peek out.

He had chosen this location carefully. It wasn't anywhere near the building where they had kept Barton prisoner, it was easy to defend in case they were found and since it lay on the outskirts of the town, the rendezvous point wasn't too far away. Even Barton should be able to get there.

He hadn't called in with SHIELD. The way in which their mission had gone wrong indicated there was a leak, so he had contacted his fellow Avengers directly. Steve had listened, had asked when and where they could be picked up and whether Tony needed help rescuing Barton. Now, their Quinjet was on its way. Steve had insisted they keep radio silence – just in case that whoever had leaked information on the mission was also tapping into their communications.

Tony had to admit he was glad the others were coming to the rescue. Of course, he could have got away on his own, a few days ago. But that would have meant leaving Barton behind and that was something he just wouldn't do. Not one of his teammates.

The archer moved in his sleep again. His frown deepened. He mumbled something again – this time, Tony thought he could discern a "no".

Suddenly, Barton sat up, his eyes wide open, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His eyes darted around the room as if he were looking for something. His gaze locked on Tony. Or, to be exact, the chest piece of his suit.

He gestured at him.
"Can you –" he gasped.

"Come over? Sure."

Tony quickly moved to him and knelt beside him. Barton seized him by the shoulders and held him fast while turning his head this way and that. Tony realized he was checking out his reflection and laughed.

"Easy, buddy. Your pretty face is still intact", he said.

Barton looked at him. He caught the shortest glimpse of panic in the archer's eyes before the man had himself back under control. He let go of Tony and sank back to the floor, closing his eyes again.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

So the drugs seemed to have worn off indeed, at least enough to have him think coherently again.

"Safe, for now", Tony told him. "You okay?"

Barton nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Swell", he said. "Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
He blinked.
"So, where are we? Safe house?"

Tony shook his head.
"I found something else. The safe house might have been compromised."

Barton glanced up at him.
"Smart."

He tried to sit up again.

Tony put a hand on his chest to keep him down.

"Better stay put", he said. "We still got a few hours until the others come to pick us up."

He took it as a sign of the archer's exhaustion that he didn't argue.

"You wake me up?" Barton asked.

Tony grinned.
"No, I'll let you sleep and carry you all the way, sweetheart."

Barton glared at him, then turned on his side and closed his eyes.

"You sure no one followed us?" he asked, his voice heavy with fatigue.

"Don't worry, I got us covered", Tony told him.

He didn't know if Barton heard him – he was asleep again already.

Tony returned to the window.

He had placed sensors all around the building – he had wanted to test them under real-life conditions for some time. If anyone approached the building, he would have enough of a warning to wake Barton and get him away from here.

It took another hour or so before Tony finally got it. Barton hadn't been checking his face, in his chest piece. He had been checking out his eyes.