DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING

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"So what are we gonna do about our resident archer? Should we be concerned that someone attacked him for some unknown reason?" asked Tony as he and his science bro made their way back to the medical floor where they hoped Clint was still there. "Since I don't want Legolas getting hurt even worse and I don't want Natasha killing us for it, I suggest the buddy-system be used every time one of us leaves the tower."

Bruce gave his friend a look before saying, "It seems that you've forgotten how independent Clint it is. How many of us did it take to pull him off of you after you told him that you injected a tracking device into his body?"

Tony shuddered at the memory. "It took you, Thor, and Cap to pull him off," he muttered while absent-mindedly rubbing his neck. "I think I still have bruises…"

"And I think that Clint would want to handle this issue by himself. And if he needs help then I'm sure that he'll…okay scratch that. If it looks like he really, really needs help then we'll step in. But until then, we'll respect his privacy and independence."

"You make it sound like it was a bad idea to put tracking devices on archer-boy. Do you know how many times he and Natasha had just popped up out of nowhere? I have a heart condition, people!"

"And I don't?"

"…Fair enough."

When the two finally made it to Clint's room a bet had been made on whether Clint was resting in bed like he was suppose to or was disobeying doctor's orders as usual. But as soon as they opened the door…

"Well, at least he's still in the bed," muttered Bruce when he saw what Clint was doing.

"Yeah, but he's not exactly resting…"

XxXxXxX

"Aw Birdie, are you still sulking?"

'Damn straight I'm still sulking!' Clint thought, crossing his arms and glaring at the billionaire. Buddy system had been initiated for a day since the two geniuses had caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to. And since his body was still weak from the poison he couldn't punch Stark in the face to show his objection to the idea.

Apparently bench-pressing very expensive medical equipment was frowned upon. Especially when you're on bed rest. And it sure didn't help if you drop it more than once…twice…okay maybe four times. The fourth time really wasn't even his fault. If Stark and Banner had just knocked before they came barging into his room they wouldn't have surprised him and they probably wouldn't have noticed the several dings on the machine.

"Why do even want me here in the first place? Aren't you two working on some "super secret" project that you don't want anyone to see?"

"We decided to work on something else while you're in here, so no worries."

Clint inwardly sighed and continued to watch the Science Bros from his perch as they conducted some kind of mad experiment on some poor defenseless microwave. He shuddered when they started "attacking" the device with a screwdriver. May it rest in peace. Unable to watch the mechanical gore any longer Clint turned back to the little notebook he had in his lap and continued writing things down.

"Whatcha writing in that book of yours, Barton?" asked Tony. "Making a report to give to Fury?"

Barton cocked an eyebrow at the question. "Yeah, it's to warn him and every member of SHIELD to hide their microwaves lest they be dismantled and turned into toasters."

Tony looked annoyed and was more than ready to chuck a wench at the blond. "For the last time, we are not making a toaster!"

Barton waved his hand dismissively and went to his notebook. Yeah, yeah, so you say." He then had to dodge the wench that Tony threw and happily threw it back. This earned him a pained groan from the billionaire when it scored a direct hit to his stomach. Huh, guess his arm was getting better.

Bruce managed to stop Tony from throwing anything else and soon the two began working on their project again.

Time continued to pass in a gentle lull and Clint found himself nodding off despite his best efforts to stay awake. He was in a light snooze for around twenty minutes until he felt something slipping out of his hands. Thanks to his SHIELD training the agent reflexively tightened his hand on his notebook while the other struck out to hit the would-be thief.

Big mistake.

"Son of a bitch!" the archer cried as he clutched his now injured hand. Turns out his thief was just one of Stark's robots, Dummy. And judging from the inventor's laughter Tony had told his robot to retrieve his notebook from him while he was asleep. How very Stark-like.

"Ha-ha-ha I'm s-sorry Hawky, I didn't know that you'd react that way!" cackled Tony. "Just know that it could've been worse. You could've punched Bruce and then where would we be?" When his last comment got a shudder from both men he laughed harder.

Bruce looked like he was struggling to hold in his laughter, but still managed to look disapprovingly at his friend. "Stop it, Tony. It wasn't…that funny…" A chuckled accidently slipped from his mouth. "Do you want me to look at hand to make sure it's not broken, Clint?"

The blond flexed his fingers experimentally before shaking his head no. "Nah, I'm good," he muttered. Even if it was busted he wouldn't want to risk being put back on bed-rest by Bruce.

When Tony noticed that the blond was glaring daggers at him he said, "None of this would've happened if you would just tell us what you were writing down. Have you learned nothing about sharing from the other day?"

Tri-colored eyes glared harder at Tony. "Yeah, I learned your definition of sharing is different from mine. Instead of asking for permission you just take things without consent!"

"Maybe the reason why I take things from you is because I know that if I ask, you would say no!"

'Damn straight I would!' thought Clint, but he wasn't about to admit that and prove Tony right. "…You don't know that." Un-holy glee lit up in Tony's hazel brown eyes and the archer knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Then may I see what you're writing in that notebook of yours?"

Barton felt his eye twitch, but he didn't say anything. Opening his book he tore out a page, folded it into a paper airplane, and threw it perfectly to the inventor. "Since you failed to say please, you only get one page."

Bruce watched as his science bro's face turn from happy to confused to angry in three seconds. 'I wonder if the page is blank,' he thought before peaking over the other man's shoulder. What he saw was a drawing of Iron Man getting squashed by a large rock. Again, a chuckle escaped from his mouth before he tried to smother it under his hand. "Maybe you should've said please?"

Clint smirked broadly because it was a fact that Tony Stark did not say please. EVER. And Clint was going to use that fact to his advantage to keep the contents of his notebook a secret from the billionaire.

As expected Tony pouted and complained about the unfairness of it all, but promised revenge and vowed that he wouldn't give up until he read the little black book. "But for now, I would like a drink."

XxXxXxX

Blue.

Really blue.

It was the deepest, most unnatural blue liquid that Clint had ever saw and the man couldn't help but flinch when it was set down in front of him. Stark didn't know. There was no way that he could've known that the blue sitting in front of him was the one that haunted his nightmares in the dead of night. The blue that he checked for in his eyes just to make sure he wasn't compromised. And the blue that marked him as a killer for a deranged demi-god.

Tony noticed that his blond friend wasn't drinking his beverage. "Just try one sip and you'll love it," assured the inventor as he fixed the second drink for Bruce. "I know you like to drink."

Clint looked at the billionaire with a masked expression. Even if Tony did know, he wasn't that much of an asshole to actually do something like…this. He looked back at the drink and shuddered.

Liquid blue mind-control.

Barton had no desire to drink it whatsoever. He needed an escape. "Haven't I spent enough time with you guys already?"

Bruce shrugged at the question and said, "You do have a lot of time to make up for."

Well that ploy didn't work. Thanks for that, Banner.

Taking a deep breath the archer willed his mind to stay away from the broken memories that associated themselves with that eerie blue color. Loki was gone. The mind-control was gone. All that's left is his own mind, his own body, and his own feelings. He was going drink this alcoholic beverage and enjoy every drop, damn it! With that thought in mind, his hand slowly reached for the crystal glass. When his fingertips touched the glass Barton had to stop himself from recoiling.

The glass was ice cold which meant that the drink would go down cold as well. The coldness would fill his body and it wouldn't be long before the icy feeling reached his mind…

"Clint, are you alright?"

The archer's eyes snapped up to see Bruce's coffee brown eyes staring at him with a look of concern. He really hoped that his anxiety wasn't showing on his face. "Yeah, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

Banner opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead he stared down at his own drink that Stark had made him. It was green in color and Clint could see something in the doctor's eyes that he was sure was similar in his own.

Unease.

It could've been from a number of things. Either Bruce was unsure about Tony's self-proclaimed bartending license, or was it something deeper. Maybe as deep as his own problem. The men looked up from their drinks and caught each other's eyes again.

"You wanna trade drinks?"

Both men were surprised when they asked the question at the same time before smiling. They changed glasses while Tony's back was turned, and downed their new beverages quickly before trading the glasses back. The drink went down cool, but warmth instantly blossomed in the archer's chest. It made him feel a little at ease. Safe even.

Tony finally finished making his own orange colored cocktail and stared at his two friends expectantly. "So did you guys enjoy your drinks?" The two men looked at each other before nodding. "Good, then you'll love the next round of drinks. You wanna try what Bruce had, Legolas?"

"Sure, it tast…er…it looked good. What was it called again?"

Luckily for Barton, the billionaire didn't notice the slip. "His was called Green Flash and yours was Icy Blue."

'Wow, how fitting,' Clint thought dryly, but he reminded himself that Stark meant no harm. In fact, he probably just picked the drinks at random. Though he did have to wonder how much liqueur the billionaire put in his drink if it was already having an effect on Banner. Suspicious sneaky bastard.

More drinks had been made and this time Barton took his time to enjoy his drink. To him, the emerald green color was more soothing than blue and felt much safer too. He guessed that to Bruce, blue was calm, which was something he always strived to be.

The night wore on with Stark creating more drinks for them to sample and Clint couldn't deny that he was having a good time with the two scientists once again. But Clint had to report to the Helicarrier early in the morning, so he needed to go to bed soon.

"Yeah, I need get to bed as well. If I'm late for another meeting because of a hangover…" Tony shuddered in fear. "…Pepper will freaking kill me."

The three men quickly cleaned up their dirty glasses and afterwards made their way to the elevator to go to bed. Once the elevator reached the archer's floor he bid his two teammates goodnight.

"G'night Stark. G'night Bruce." He inwardly laughed when Stark looked confused while Bruce looked pleasantly surprised.

"H-How come you call Bruce by his first name, but not me?!" sputtered the billionaire.

The blonde shrugged his shoulders, but gave a little smile to Bruce. "Just because." The metal doors closed before Stark could get out another word and Clint happily went to his room.

XxXxXxX

"Master Barton, would you like me to inform Master Banner that you are unwell?"

Clint only groaned in pain as his stomach lurched and the contents made their way into the toilet. He tried to forget about the nightmare he had just experienced, but it was proving to be impossible.

The room was all too quiet and guilt was overwhelming. Blood was all over his hands and floor and nobody in the room was alive except for him. It was so quiet, so cold and in the corner of his eye he could see the fallen god smirking at him.

When Jarvis had asked him again if he needed assistance he managed to mutter a small, no. After he was sure that his stomach was empty the archer went to the sink to wash the foul taste from his mouth. Knowing he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon Clint decided to grab his bow and arrows and head down to the shooting range.

He'd shoot away his problems tonight.

END CHAPTER

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Another chapter done! YAY!

Thanks for the review from Bookdancer, PineHollowStables, GreenleafUndomiel, ELOSHAZZY, and Aileen Autarkeia

I'll try to update as soon as I can.

Until next time, BYE!