DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

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Tri-colored eyes shot open at the amount of quiet around him. In a haste to figure out where he was Clint banged his head hard against something hard above him before silently cursing to himself. Memories from the night before made him realize that he was still in the air vents, wrapped tightly in his blanket. After getting free from the confines of the blanket Clint peeked through the grate below and saw that the two scientists had retired for the night.

'On second thought, make that morning,' thought Clint after looking at his watch which read 4:15. Stifling a yawn the male made his way through the vents to go back to his room; this time keeping an eye out for the screw-loose robot. A few minutes later Clint opened the metal grate above his room and dropped inside. He glanced at his bed and briefly wondered if he should go back to sleep, but to his surprise he actually felt pretty well rested already. In fact, this was the first time in months that he had slept a night through without having any nightmares.

Huh. Felt kinda refreshing.

Giving his body a good stretch that was not unlike a cat, Barton headed towards the bathroom to perform his morning rituals. Brush this, wash that, comb there, and stare into the mirror to make sure eerie blue eyes weren't staring back. Finish with big sigh of relief if everything was normal.

It was still dark outside with the moon still hanging in the pre-morning sky. The air outside was probably cool, making it good weather to go for a run. He was long overdue for a good run thanks to those pesky nightmares messing up his usual sleep schedule. With a smile he quickly donned a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and quickly made his way to the elevator.

XxXxXxX

Breaths were coming out in small pants as Clint rounded another block. His muscles were aching and burning, letting him know he was getting a good workout and it only pushed him to run farther so he could make up for all the time he missed. The air was cool and refreshing just liked he hoped and streets were almost completely deserted. After a good run like this, the archer planned to wind down with a nice cup of coffee.

The sun was starting to peek over the tall buildings, casting a beautiful glow over the city and alerting the citizens of a new day. Early birds were now stumbling out of their homes to either head off to work or go jogging like he was. And it wouldn't be long now until the streets were crowded with millions of people. Knowing this, Clint decided to wrap up his jog and head back to the tower. But as he got closer to the tower he could tell that something wasn't right. Someone was tailing him.

Interesting…

Barton cast a quick look behind him to check out his stalker. Male, brunette, medium build, and just a little taller than him. He looked familiar, but he wasn't entirely sure if he's met the man before. Oh well, he'd find out soon enough. Turning down an empty alley he slowed down his pace in order for his tail to catch up before stopping completely. Clint then turned to face the man, crossing his arms and sending him an annoyed glare.

"Is there a reason why you're following me?" he asked before smirking lightly. "Or is this just a really popular jogging path?"

The other man smirked as well before pulling out a concealed blade. "Just wanted to let you know that it's nothing personal." With that said, the pursuer lunged towards the archer with the intent to kill.

The archer managed to dodge the swipes of the blade with ease. "From the way you're swinging at me, I think this is personal." He grabbed the assailant's arm, successfully stopping the knife from impaling him before punching the man hard in the face, causing the knife skid across the ground a few feet away from the men.

The brunette swore loudly while holding his bleeding nose before attacking again with another knife. This time managing to score a direct hit to Clint's cheek and forearms. Stalker guy was good, he would give him that. Definitely not some amateur or a random mugger looking for a quick buck. He dodged another blow from the weapon before crouching low to ground and kicking the man's feet out from under him. Once he was down Clint quickly pounced on him, easily pinning him down with a knife to his throat.

"Ok Stalker guy, I want answers! Who are you, and why were you trying to kill me?"

The brunette gulped as the bladed edge of his knife pressed harder against his throat before glaring at the blond. "Let's just say you had it coming to you."

"Uh-huh, well with the kinda work that I do I have a lot of things coming to me, so you're gonna have to be a little bit more specific." When the guy refused to say anymore Clint decided he wasn't going to waste anymore of his morning on him. "Let this be a warning to you, don't fucking follow me again!" A strong punch was then delivered to the man's jaw to knock him unconscious. Afterwards, Clint moved Stalker Guy's limp body to a metal dumpster before dropping him in. For the man's own sake he had better wake up before Waste Management showed up to take the trash away. Either way it wasn't his problem anymore.

With blood now flowing free from the wounds and energy starting to fade Clint leaned heavily against the dumpster and sighed. His morning was now ruined, he still had to make the run back to Avengers Tower, and if any of the Science Bros were awake he would have to explain the cuts on his skin which was definitely not something he wanted to deal with today.

Another sigh was released as the agent made his way from the alley. No one had witnessed him knocking a man out and leaving him in trash, so he was in the clear.

'Now I just have to make it back to the tower before I lose anymore blood,' Clint thought as he rubbed some of the blood off his face with the end of his shirt, frowning when he saw how much was on it. 'Hopefully no one will freak out because of this.'

XxXxXxX

Of course Bruce would be up at this time despite burning the midnight oil the night before; of course he would freak out when he saw his teammate sporting new bandages around his arms and cheek. And of course Clint would have to explain what had happened.

"My God, Clint, why didn't you come straight home instead of going to get coffee if you got attacked?!" And of course Bruce would ask that too.

Clint shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. Stuff like this happened to him all the time; it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. "The coffee place was close by and it had bandages. And besides, I got you and Stark something. It's no big deal." He tries the bat the doctor's hands away from his cheek, but was unsuccessful. Stupid Hulk strength.

Bruce gently pulled back the adhesive dressing and gasped at what he saw. The cut was long and pretty deep, but it was also looking sickly discolored. "There must have been something on that knife to cause this," he muttered before inspecting the archer's pupils. "How do you feel? Does your head feel funny?"

'How many doctors are gonna ask me that question?' Clint thought sourly. He knew the man didn't mean what the other doctors and shrinks meant, but that question still irked him. But now that he thought about it he did feel…not okay. The cuts were starting to burn like that surface of the sun and his heart-rate was speeding up. Inwardly he was ranting at himself for not thinking about this possibility. Of course the stalker would've known that he couldn't beat the archer, so it made sense that he would think to poison him.

"This looks serious, Clint! And then you went to get coffee afterwards! That probably made it worse!"

"I can take your coffee back, you know? I will give it Stark or drink it myself; do you want me to do that?"

Banner looked unimpressed at the threat. "I think I'll keep my coffee, thanks. I'm going to need it to deal with you." The doctor pulled back the wrappings on the struggling archer's arms, tutting softly because they looked worse. "Come on Clint, time to go to the medical wing."

Barton heard what Bruce said, was willing to do what Bruce said, but his body wasn't exactly cooperating with either of them. "Thinking my legs are a little numb, doc." Could this day get any worse?

*Ding*

The elevator door opened and out came Tony Stark dressed in designer jeans and his favorite AB/DC shirt. "I smell coffee!"

Yep, it could get worse.

"So who went out and bought coffee? Is it Starbuck's coffee? Did anyone get me anything? And…and what the hell happened to you, Legolas?" The billionaire made his way over to the pair and shook his head at what he saw. "Damn Barton, I hope the other guy looks worse!"

Despite the numbness that was spreading throughout the rest of his body Clint couldn't help but smirk. "Don't you know it?" Before the two could get into the details of the current state of Clint's attacker, Bruce quickly reminded them that their teammate needed medical attention and instructed Tony to help him drag Clint to medical. Of course Tony griped and complained on how heavy his archer friend was, but he stopped when the man showed that he was too tired to respond.

Once the two scientists got the blond situated into bed Bruce administered an antidote to cure Clint's paralysis. Afterwards he began running a few tests to make sure there wasn't anything else in his friend's bloodstream that would affect his heath. "You know I'm actually starting to wonder who really got the last laugh here."

Even with the medication working its sweet magic on the agent's limbs, the man refused to respond to that statement. Stark, on the other hand found the comment hilarious and was laughing his head off for a while before sobering up. All joking aside, someone had attacked his friend and teammate and that was really not okay.

"So who was the guy that attacked you? Anyone we know?"

"Don't really know. Dude said it wasn't personal before he tried to gut me like a fish."

"Is it possible he was just some random thief?" asked Bruce.

"Nah, the guy was trained and he really only seemed interested in seeing me dead."

"Maybe you've crossed paths before on some crazy SHIELD mission," Stark added. "Maybe you got him locked up, or someone hired him to take you out because you got them locked up."

That idea sounded entirely possible. Being a super spy/assassin for SHIELD was an easy way to make enemies, but right now Clint was too tired to contemplate why some guy wanted him dead. Luckily for him Bruce had took notice of this and decided that he needed to rest.

"Okay Clint, as team doctor I'm putting you on bed rest for a day or two until I get the test results back. If I see you out of this room I will be forced to bring in the Other Guy. Are we clear?"

The images of the Hulk dragging Clint back to bed were terrifying in his mind. But it was kinda of insulting to think he needed to be threatened in order to stay put. When he voiced his feelings on this Stark had reminded him that according to SHIELD records the agent had escaped medical while still severely injured over a hundred times.

"Why would leave the hospital if you had two busted legs?!"

"I don't know. Why do you need to hack into SHIELD's databases and read my personal files?!"

"Because it's easier to learn about the people I'm working with!" Tony then turns to Bruce and says, "I think we should strap him down just incase he tries to escape."

"Tempting, but I don't think we need to go that far. I'm sure Agent Barton will do as he's told, right Agent Barton."

If Clint could cross his arms he would've done so by now. "Yes sir, Doctor Banner. I'll stay right here." Bruce gave him a look before nodding and began making his way out the door. Meanwhile Stark was ruffling the blond's hair, promising that if he was good he would bring him back something special. "You're lucky I can't move my arms properly, Stark!"

The older man smirked in response. "I know; that's why I'm doing this."

His expression then changed to a more serious one, and Barton would be lying if said it didn't surprise him. Since when did the Tony Stark get serious about anything?

"Try to behave and get some rest, okay?"

This was weird. Stark was being weird. This whole day has been weird. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Smiling again the genius made his way out the door. "We'll be back to check on you in a little while."

Once Tony was gone Clint began to serious wonder if being a scientist made people crazy. He decided to think about it later after he took a short nap. Hopefully then he would be more limber. But as he tried to get into a more comfortable position, he found his body unwilling to move the way he wanted it to. After five minutes of trying Clint finally gave up and glared ruefully at the ceiling.

Worst day ever.

END CHAPTER

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Sorry for the wait. For some reason the second chapter is always the hardest to write.

Thanks for the reviews and thanks for the follows. And I will try to update real soon.

Until next time, BYE!