Right - not really my favourite chapter, since I was in kind of a hurry to get it written so I could maintain my posting-schedule. Only noticed two days ago this one was still missing ... Erm, since we had a mini-"trilogy" last, consider this the epilogue. ;)

Also, since the question came up: Nope, this ain't end in Tony/Hawkeye-slash. Or any slash. I don't mind that stuff and even like some of it but there's really so much of it out there, I simply prefer this to remain a story about folks getting to know each other and becoming friends.

Feathers

Three days. Three days since they had arrived on the helicarrier and Barton had been rushed off for emergency surgery. As the doc had told them, he had briefly woken up when the anesthetic had worn off but Tony had yet to see the archer awake. He cast a glance over at Barton and quickly looked down at is tablet again. Hearing the constant beeping sound of the monitor attached to the man was bad enough. Seeing his bruised face and all those tubes and bandages –

Of course, Tony knew, in his mind, it wasn't his fault. It was the fault of whoever had sold them out to the enemy. He couldn't help feeling slightly guilty, though. He should have tried harder to find those thugs' hide-out. So he could have got the archer out of there sooner.

Barton stirred in his sleep.

Tony put down his tablet and moved closer.

Suddenly, the monitor's beeping sped up. Tony saw the archer's hands clench into fists and his breathing came faster, too. He put his hand on Barton's shoulder, ready to wake him from whatever nightmare plagued him, should it get any worse. It only crossed his mind that this might not have been the wisest move when a hand closed around his throat. It wasn't a very firm grip but it still made him freeze at once.

"Easy", he murmured. "It's me. You're safe. We're on the helicarrier."

Barton's eyes snapped open. Tony watched his gaze dart here and there, probably to verify what he'd just heard. He looked disoriented and – not scared, cos guys like Barton weren't scared. Just like Tony Stark was never scared. No, sir. Alarmed. Guys like him and Barton were alarmed.

"Hey, look at me."
Tony squeezed the archer's shoulder. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and took a small mirror from it. Just a hunch, he had told himself when he had put it there. Now he was glad he had it.
"You're okay, see?"
He held the mirror so Barton could see his eyes in it.
"He's not here. You're all alone in that strange mind of yours."
He even managed to smile.

Barton let go of his throat and took the mirror instead. He stared at his reflection for a few moments, slightly turning his head this way and that. Then, he relaxed and closed his eyes again.

"How long?" he asked.
His voice sounded dry and raspy.

"Three days."

Tony poured him a glass of water and held it so he could drink.

"Three days?"
Barton wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Not exactly a new record according to what Tasha told us but not so bad, either", Tony said.

The archer nodded. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"And how long am I grounded?" he asked.

"Technically, you're supposed to stay here for a few weeks. Since we got Banner, though, they agreed to let us take you back to Avengers Tower after they've removed all those tubes. Which will be in about a week or so."
Tony gave him a stern look.
"Provided, of course, you're a good boy and stay in bed for at least another week after."

Barton tried to glare at him.
"Where are the others?" he asked, which Tony translated as "Where's Tasha?"

"Round here, somewhere, and I better tell them you've decided to re-join the living – though, if you ask me, you look more like the living dead. Might wanna consider a second career starring in Romero's next zombie-movie …"

Another glare hit him, less half-hearted than the first one.
"You wanna find out how alive I really am, Stark?"

"Thanks, but you already demonstrated that on my throat."
Tony backed away.
"And besides, that nurse they got here – Becky or Betty or something like that – will probably eat me alive if she thinks I made you tear your stitches."

When Barton grinned, Tony raised his hand.

"Same goes for laughing, buddy. Strictly forbidden. – Better go get the others now."

He turned to leave.

"Stark?"

"Yes?"

A short pause.

"What's with those feathers?"

Ah, he finally had noticed.

Tony turned, forcing himself to look dead serious.

"Well, you're still alive and soon to be kicking again but the doc said you were gone for about a minute or so and since I promised you pink marabou feathers if you did that …"

He shrugged and gestured at the feather boa he had draped over the bed so Barton had to see it.

And then, he hurried to leave because even though the archer was trying hard not to laugh, it was easy to see he would lose that battle in the end, and Tony wasn't going to be anywhere near the man when Nurse Becky came bursting in to check on her patient.

A good week later, they were indeed allowed to take Barton back to Avengers Tower. Tony didn't know whether he was pleasantly surprised or just plain puzzled when the archer didn't trash the feather boa but instead, put it up in his room like some kind of trophy. He didn't protest overly much, either, when Tony started calling him "Feathers" …