Warning: "I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth... and the other guy spit it out!" – quoted from the Avengers movie. Well, being the person I am, that one got me thinking ... So, if that quote (it's Banner who says that, of course)and what it implies unsettles you, you better skip this one. Seriously.

Bite the Bullet

Smoke. Blood. Voices, someone being punched, grunting in pain.

Bruce struggled to awareness.

He opened his eyes, blinked several times to clear his vision. The blurred patches of colour turned into people. The Hawk, on the ground, face smeared with blood. Four men pinning him down. A fifth one looming over him, holding – Bruce wasn't quite sure what it was but he heard what that guy said.

"Let's see if you'll manage to use that bow of yours with just one arm."

Damn.

Bruce felt the Other Guy stir but too slow. He cast a look around. It caught on something black, gleaming, about an arm's length away from him. Barton's gun. Bruce struggled to his hands and knees, grabbed the gun, tried to get to his feet and almost fell down again when the world suddenly tilted sideways.

"Stop."

Not loud enough.

The man lifted whatever he was carrying while one of the other four forced Barton's left arm sideways. The archer was struggling so hard Bruce would have sworn he could hear his shoulder joint pop out of its socket.

He cleared his throat.

"Stop!"

He lifted the gun.

The fifth man lowered his weapon and turned to him. Barton, too, looked at him. Bruce thought he saw the archer shake his head but he wasn't sure since he had to concentrate on keeping his balance.

Head injury. Definitely.

"What?"
The fifth man took a step towards him.
"You wanna shoot me? You think –"

"No", Bruce cut him off. "Not you."

The Other Guy was still trying to get his bearings. He would be here, in a little while. But Bruce needed him here right now.

He smiled and turned the gun on himself. Another deep breath –

What if it goes wrong?

- then he opened his mouth, bit down hard on the gun's muzzle and pulled the trigger.

Someone shouted "Fuck!"

The world went green.

He awoke again to a splitting headache and that typical hospital-smell. Only that they would never take him to a normal hospital.

SHIELD.

Bruce forced his eyes open. The lights were dimmed, fortunately, so it wasn't too bad. Except that he was in some SHIELD facility.

He started to sit up.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

Barton's voice, from his right.

Bruce turned his head.

The archer was sitting on a chair by his bedside. He didn't exactly look like someone who ought to be out of bed. Of course, Bruce saw only the cuts and bruises on his face but there probably were more than those. Also, Barton's right eye was swollen shut and his left arm rested in a sling.

He still managed to glare.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Still in one piece."
Bruce smiled.

The archer didn't.

A thought struck Bruce.
"I didn't – I mean, did I -?"

The Other Guy would have been out of control, of course. Not making any difference between friend and foe. Smashing whoever didn't get out of his way fast enough. And even those who did.

"Don't you ever pull such a stunt again", Barton cut him off. "Not ever, got it?"

I did this. Good heavens, I could have killed him!

"I'm sorry."
He looked away, at the clean white sheet covering him.
"I knew the Other Guy would be out of control but –"

"Never mind that, this isn't about the Big Guy."

"No?"
Bruce looked up again, surprised.

"Nope. I'm getting along fine with him. It's about you."
Barton's glare softened a bit.
"I mean – what if it wouldn't have worked?"

"But I already did this, several years ago, and it worked."

Not as he had intended it to work, back then, because he hadn't expected the Other Guy to spit out the bullet he had put in his mouth. He wasn't going to tell the archer that, though.

"Yeah, well, you're more in control of the Big Guy now than you were back then, right?"

Bruce couldn't deny that. Still –

"That's true, but he still tends to show up unbidden when I'm running danger of being harmed. Besides," he quickly went on before Barton could interrupt him again, "that guy was about to – I don't know, cut off your arm or something."

The archer sighed. His glare vanished.

"I know but – let me tell you the same thing I told Tony a while ago: I can live without my arm. But I somehow doubt you can live without your brains, so no more trying to blow them out, okay? Even if it works out alright because the Big Guy makes an appearance – it's just not something I'd care to ever see again."

What else could Bruce do but nod?

"Good."
Barton finally smiled at him.
"And now, let's see if I can manage to get back to my own bed before Doc Brown catches me ..."