A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been leaving reviews! I would thank you personally but so many of you are on Guest so just want to let you know here that I really appreciate feedback!

When Clint came to, he didn't open his eyes right away. He didn't know where he was, but he could feel that his arms and legs were strapped down. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was Dr. Selvig working with the Tesseract at the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound... No, he remembered the portal opening too. He remembered Loki appearing and decimating some of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finest men as though it was child's play. And then Loki had approached him, with that weird spear. Suddenly there was a flash of blue in Clint's mind accompanied by a sharp pain. He gritted his teeth, his eyes still shut tight. The Tesseract. That was it. Loki had been controlling him with the Tesseract. Was he free of that control now? Another sharp pain and flash of blue told him that no, the Tesseract was trying to regain control of his mind. He shook his head as though that would help, but it only caused a dull headache under the sharp pains and made him feel a little sick.

"Barton?" someone said. Clint froze. "Barton, are you with me?"

Clint opened his eyes slowly. They still had not fully lost the ethereal blue sheen of the Tesseract's power. Standing over him was a man he recognized from his involvement with S.H.I.E.L.D. It had been quite the event when he'd been pulled from a block of ice. Rogers, was his name. Steve Rogers. Captain America.

Kill him, came the voice of Loki's mind-control. Kill him and anyone who stands in your way. In the next quick seconds, Clint first went to reach for his knife, and when he remembered that he was bound, started trying to figure out how he could kill Rogers with something else.

And then he realized that he didn't want to kill Rogers. That it was the Tesseract and Loki talking, and he didn't have to take those orders. I won't, Clint thought, I won't kill him, and he was met with another blinding pain and flash of blue light in his mind. His jaw clenched and he grunted in pain.

"Barton," Rogers said again.

Clint took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "Yeah," he managed to say, but his whole body was tense, straining against the straps that bound him. The Tesseract's power wrestled with Clint's mental resolve to force it out of his mind.

"Try to calm down," Rogers said, "the Tesseract is powerful, it's going to take time to flush out its control."

For the first time since Loki had taken control of Clint's mind, he thought about Natasha. Really thought about her – not the history that he'd told Loki, not as a coworker and fellow agent, but as Natasha. Someone he trusted. Someone he wanted to be there right now. Nat would understand what he was going through. She had plenty of experience with head games and psychological manipulation. She was the only one he wanted to talk to.

Clint took slow, deep breaths, trying to relax his muscles though his skin was glistening with sweat from the exertion. The pain began to recede a little and the blue haze in his mind started to clear, but he knew better than to hope it would all just go away.

He tried to distract himself, looking around. He was in one of the helicarrier's medical lockups. Rogers was standing there, looking concerned. "What are you…?" Clint started to ask, but his mind was still a little scrambled. His voice was hoarse, too. Besides when Loki had asked him direct questions, Clint hadn't talked much while he was under mind-control.

"We've been taking shifts, watching you," Rogers said. "We weren't sure what was going to happen when you woke up. Will you be ok for a minute? I need to tell Fury that you're awake." Clint nodded, closing his eyes again and gritting his teeth. Rogers turned and stepped out into the hallway, turning his back and speaking through his microphone. "Fury, Barton's awake. He's semi-aware but he's having a hard time fighting off the power of the Tesseract."

"A medical team will come to check him out," Fury responded through his earpiece. "Stay with him. I want the watch shifts continued until he's fully cleared."

"Copy that," Rogers said.

The medical team arrived in two minutes to find Clint tense and shaking, his fists clenched, the Tesseract fighting to reassert its power over him. "Natasha," Clint mumbled through the pain. He just wanted her to be there.

"You're going to be ok, Agent Barton," one of the medics was saying, but Clint would only believe that if it came from Agent Romanoff. The doctors administered several tests, checking his vitals, drawing blood, all the while keeping him strapped down, which was for the best for everyone. But Clint was still waging that battle in his head and finally, they administered a small dose of sedative. It took a few minutes to take effect and overpower the mind-control, but eventually, Clint drifted off into a medicated sleep after calling for Natasha one more time.

One of the medics came out and walked over to Steve. "Agent Barton is physically healthy. His tests came out fine. But from what we understand of the Tesseract, the power it's exerting is mental. There's nothing we can do to eject it from Barton's mind – that will be up to him. He's asleep now, but Director Fury wants you and Stark to keep switching off with watch shifts."

Steve nodded, checking the time and heading back into the lockup to wait for Tony's shift to start.

Meanwhile, in the detention center, Bruce was just coming around too. Someone had thrown some kind of sheet over him and a pile of clothes lay next to him in the round cell. His head was throbbing, especially at the right temple, and when he sat up it got worse. He pulled the clothes over to him and began to put them on, finally standing to finish pulling his pants up all the way. That's when he noticed Fury standing stoically outside his cell. "You're awake," the S.H.I.E.L.D. director said.

"Why am I here?" Bruce asked, crossing his arms and staring out at Fury.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Well, in case you don't remember, Dr. Banner, you got very, very angry."

"No, I know that," the doctor said, "I meant, why am I still on the helicarrier?" He glanced pointedly downward.

"You were already unconscious when we got you into the cell," Fury said. "Thor's damn good with that hammer. I imagine you've got quite the headache right now."

"No kidding," Bruce said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Then he looked up at Fury again. "How bad was it?"

"The fight? That explosion took out one of engines and we almost dropped right out of the sky. Dozens are dead, even more injured, Loki's gone and we still have no lead on the Tesseract," Fury said, but Bruce shook his head.

"No, I mean me," he said darkly. He locked eyes with Fury. "How many people?"

Fury held his gaze. "Are you sure you want to know the answer to that, Dr. Banner? Because I won't sugarcoat it." Bruce's continued glare clearly indicated that yes, he wanted to know. Fury sighed. "You did billions of dollars worth of damage to S.H.I.E.L.D. property, for one thing. But, as far as we've found, none of the helicarrier's personnel ended up in your path. And you gave Thor a pretty sound beating, but he repaid that in full."

Bruce touched his temple, which was still throbbing. "Thank god," he muttered, grateful that Thor had been able to knock him out before he'd hurt anyone.

"But, there was one person…" Fury started.

"You said no personnel got involved," Bruce said, suddenly worried.

"She wasn't personnel. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. A spy. Natasha Romanoff was with you when you changed."

Bruce scrunched his eyes shut. Natasha, right. He remembered her being there, pinned under some debris when he'd Hulked out. He hoped she'd managed to get away. But then his brain processed Fury's use of the past tense in speaking about her. His eyes shot open and he looked at Fury. "No. Did I…?"

The question was obvious and Fury wasn't sure how Bruce was going to react, which is why he'd had Banner remain locked up in the cell instead of taken to the infirmary. It would be hard for Bruce to hear what came next, but as Fury said, he had no intention of sugarcoating things. He didn't look away when he nodded. "Internal injuries, broken bones, asphyxiation, we're not quite sure which one was the cause of death. But the Hulk," he said, careful to distinguish between Banner and the creature, "broke her apart. One of our finest, and she didn't stand a chance."

Bruce just stared for a moment and then turned away and walked across the cell, resting his head against the glass on the other side, not looking at Fury.

"I'll be back to check on you later, Banner," Fury said calmly, electing to give the doctor some more time to calm down.

Bruce barely heard Fury. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts. He had killed Natasha. He'd hurt people before, but now… Natasha had been calm with him. She hadn't judged him in Calcutta, even though he saw in that one instant that he truly scared her. She hadn't avoided him or treated him any differently, even after he'd pulled that stupid stunt to see how she'd react. No one else was caught up in his rage and that was good, but the fact that he'd killed even one person because he couldn't get a damn handle on himself, he couldn't stand it.

He hated it. He hated his emotions, he hated the Hulk. He screamed with frustration and beat his fist against the glass. Bruce hated himself. To his core, he hated everything about himself. He wished Thor had just finished him off after he lost consciousness. He wished, for the hundredth time, that putting a gun in his mouth had just worked the first time.

He had told them, hadn't he? That it would be dangerous to have him onboard? That his presence would jeopardize everyone's lives? But had they listened? No! They had brought him along anyway, Tony had continually goaded him, and though he had a handle on it, the explosion had jarred his poise. And now Agent Romanoff was dead because of it. "Damn it!" he shouted, hitting the glass again.

And then he suddenly remembered what Fury had said to Loki about the glass. That if the god so much as scratched it, it would instantly, automatically plummet from the carrier. Thirty thousand feet, straight down, in a steel trap. It would be enough to kill anyone. Maybe even the Hulk. For Bruce, there wasn't even a question of whether or not he should do it. He'd come to the realization a long time ago that everyone would be better off if he was dead, but given that the gun hadn't worked, he hadn't really ever had a method of doing it. Until now. Especially if he could manage to remain calm enough to stay human for the whole fall. It was a one-way express ticket to the end of the line. Finally, he thought. A way out.

He slammed both of his fists against the glass as hard as he could. I tried to be good, he thought. I tried to help people. He hit the glass again. I tried to make it right. I tried to be worth something. As he pounded on the glass, the cell didn't even budge, so he began to throw himself bodily against it instead, putting all his strength into it. I didn't choose this! I didn't want to be a monster! But that's all I'll ever be! He kept throwing himself at the glass until he was out of breath and probably had a few new bruises forming. For some reason, it wasn't working. "A monster!" he screamed, still pounding on the glass. "I'm a monster!" But the cell wouldn't budge and finally, he slumped to the ground against the glass, cradling his face in his hands, dry sobs shaking his exhausted body.

"You're not a monster, Dr. Banner," came a voice. Bruce glanced up to see Agent Hill standing where Fury had been standing a little while before. He met her eyes just for a moment, with a look that said, Oh, really? "You're not," Hill said again. "It's not your fault."

"Great," he said sarcastically, "you can tell everyone that at Agent Romanoff's funeral."

Agent Hill didn't look mad. She was calm, and standing there in her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, she reminded him so much of Natasha. He dropped his head again, still shaking, still hating himself. "The control panel of the cell was hacked," Hill explained in a level voice. "The mechanisms are jammed. That's why the cell won't fall." Bruce didn't respond. "You can get through this," she said, more quietly. "We're all going to get through this." A pause. "We still need your help, Dr. Banner."

And then it was quiet. Bruce didn't look up for a long time, but when he did, Agent Hill was gone.

It was a few hours later when Clint woke up again, the sedative slowly leaving his system. Stark and Rogers had just been about to change shifts, so they were both there. "Up and at 'em, Barton!" Stark said. "I was beginning to worry I'd done some brain damage with that hit."

"What?" Clint asked. There was still a hint of the blue haze left in his head, but for the most part, it seemed that the Tesseract's control was gone.

"That's how we got you back," Stark explained. "Cognitive recalibration."

Rogers rolled his eyes. "He hit you really hard on the head." He leaned forward and began unbuckling the restraints holding Clint down.

"Ah," Clint said, nodding, rubbing his freed wrists and stretching his arms while Rogers unbound his legs, too.

"So, what's his next move?" Stark asked. He had no hard feelings that Barton had tried to kill him, though even Barton didn't remember that yet. "You know," he said, putting his arms up to his head in an imitation of Loki's helmet, "Reindeer Games."

Clint didn't remember a lot of what had happened, but some vague images were beginning to resurface. The car chase from the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound. Selvig working with the Tesseract. Soldiers. Stuttgart. And then moving through the helicarrier. Shooting down man after man. The memories hurt physically, and Clint closed his eyes and held his face in his hands, trying to push the pain away. But he couldn't stop remembering. He looked up at Stark and then Rogers. "How many agents did I kill?" he asked bluntly.

Stark pressed his lips together. There was no clever comment that would be a good response to this, so it was Rogers that answered. "Don't think about it like that, Agent Barton. You were under mind-control. You couldn't stop yourself."

"I don't care," Clint said angrily, "just-" and then another memory resurfaced. It was from Stuttgart. Loki's distraction. When Clint had been retreating with the iridium for Selvig, he'd seen S.H.I.E.L.D. craft hovering over the square, and a voice had come over the loudspeaker, telling Loki to drop his weapon and stand down. "Natasha," Clint said. "Where's Agent Romanoff?"

The atmosphere in the room hadn't exactly been cheery before, but now the heavy silence was positively stifling. Rogers and Stark both looked away from Clint in different directions. "What?" Clint asked, and after a pause, "Where's Natasha?!" Rogers looked at Tony, who just slightly shrugged his shoulders, neither sure how to tell Barton. Clint leapt to his feet and though it made his head spin slightly to move so fast after the sedative was just barely out of his system, he grabbed Rogers by the collar. "What aren't you telling me?!"

"Hey," Rogers said, grabbing Clint's wrists, but Clint didn't let go. He glared at Rogers and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Where. Is. Agent. Romanoff?" Clint asked, his voice quiet but piercingly angry.

"Barton," Stark said solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Agent Romanoff…" But he wasn't sure what to say. He tried to imagine what it would be like if someone had to tell him that Pepper was dead, and he couldn't stand even the thought. What could he say to Barton?

Clint looked to Stark, and then to Rogers, and then to Stark again. Their silence spoke volumes. "She's… is she…?"

Rogers looked away and nodded slightly. "Agent Romanoff was killed," he said quietly.

Clint swallowed and stepped back, releasing Rogers' collar. "Oh god," he said, another thought occurring to him. Under the mind-control, Clint had killed people that he knew worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.. In his eyes at the time, they had been enemies. He could've come up against any one of the agents and not hesitated for a second in killing them. In fact, he vaguely remembered now that he'd tried to kill Stark, too. But that wasn't what he was suddenly fearful of. Had he come up against Natasha in the helicarrier fight? "Did I…?" he asked. He couldn't even say the words.

"No," Stark said quickly, hoping that would be some sort of consolation. "It wasn't you."

Maybe someday Clint would be able to appreciate the fact that he hadn't done it, but right now he was still reeling, furious and overwhelmed with grief. "How, then?" Natasha was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most skilled agents. Clint had no idea who could possibly have bested her in combat. None of Loki's recruited lackeys, that was for sure.

"Banner," Stark said.

"Not Banner," Rogers corrected him. "The Hulk. Agent Romanoff had been trying to keep Banner calm but…" They all knew what came after.

Clint's head was spinning, not from the effects of the Tesseract but from emotions. Natasha was dead. Natasha Romanoff, the one person he actually trusted. The one person who had made him feel not alone. From the second he'd seen her, he'd known there was something different about her. He'd gone against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s orders and refused to kill her. Because she was different. She was beautiful in every sense of the word and though she'd made some mistakes, he had believed she deserved a chance to make things right. She'd given him the same chance whenever he messed up, too. But now she was dead. Maybe he hadn't killed her with his own hands, but he hadn't been there to protect her.

"The Hulk…" Clint said darkly, "the Hulk killed her?" Suddenly, Stark and Rogers were very wary of the glint in Agent Barton's eye. Something snapped in him. This wasn't mind-control. This was pure fury. "Banner killed her." Clint headed for the door "I'm going to kill him."

Rogers grabbed him. "Barton! No!"

"I'll kill him!" Clint screamed, suddenly in a rage and fighting tooth and nail against Rogers' grip on him. "I'M GOING TO KILL BANNER!" The Hulk had taken away the one person in the world that Clint had cared about the most. Maybe even loved. Natasha had been the one good thing that got Clint through hard times and now she was gone. And Clint had known how she'd felt about the Hulk. There were few things that scared Agent Romanoff, but the Hulk was one of them. To die like that would've been terrifying for her. She died alone and scared. And Clint would make sure that Banner paid for that with his own life.

Though Clint struggled, Rogers was stronger than him and forced him back onto the bed. "We need a medic in here," Stark was saying into his earpiece urgently as he wrapped the straps back around Clint's legs. "Now!"

"I'm going to kill him!" Clint was still shouting. His cool composure, the calm way he usually dealt with anger, that was gone. There was no holding this feeling back. There was no stopping it. "I'll tear him apart!"

Rogers forced Clint's wrists into the restraints and then he and Stark stepped back as a medic with a syringe of sedative came running in. "No!" Clint was shouting as the medic forced the needle into his arm. "Banner is dead! I'll kill him!"

Slowly the sedative took effect and Clint slipped under again, even the drug couldn't keep his sleep from being fitful.

Stark looked at Rogers. "We still have to deal with an alien army, don't we?"