A/N: Phew! First of all, I'm SO SORRY that it took me this long to update! Times have been hectic lately. (winces) BUT, here I am! With a new chapter. Yay?

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all the reviews, listings, love and support! You have NO IDEA how happy it makes me that so many of you want to join this fiery ride (flight?). (BEAMS, and HUGS)

Awkay, before I get all mushy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

C-C-Changes

Clint had always hated doctors. Ever since he was a kid. And he'd never been a big fan of being poked and tested like some sort of a laboratory experiment. His latest… unfortunate experience in Hydra's hands definitely didn't help his attitude.

It also didn't help that at the moment the only space safe enough for him, in case he literally burst into flames, was a tiny room with plexiglass walls. There was absolutely no privacy. And all too much noise and light to his liking.

"How's the nausea?"

Clint gritted his teeth to not snap that he was last asked the exact same thing ten minutes earlier, and he was getting sick of it. Literally and figuratively. "Nausea's doing fine. Me? Not so much", he huffed a little more irritably than would've been warranted.

Bruce didn't seem offended, which made him feel worse. The scientist made notes. "And the headache?"

Clint groaned and rubbed his face roughly with one hand. "Like I'd have a really, really…" He groaned again when he moved and decided that it was a very bad idea. "… really bad hangover… Times ten." If there was anything that came even close to the current discomfort, it was the first two or three days after Loki. But he wasn't planning on mentioning or even thinking about that at the moment. He was feeling miserable enough already.

"As bad as Tijuana after mission-hours?" Natasha suggested. She'd been sitting beside him almost from the moment she heard that he'd stumbled in with sparkling hands. Like some sort of a bodyguard, trying to shield him against a threat she had no control over. Clint wasn't sure what to think about such a constant presence but didn't have the heart to tell her to take a break. She seemed to need this, the comfort of seeing him alert and fighting.

Clint narrowed his eyes. Were the lights brighter than before? The tingling was returning to his hands. He needed fresh air, badly. "More like Kemi." He didn't know what was in that drink, but it tasted like candy and bit harder than Vodka.

Bruce approached him with a healthy amount of caution. It wasn't a good idea to startle someone who might burst into flames at any given moment. "You need a bucket? You're starting to look a little green."

Under different circumstances it might've amused Clint that his friend worried about someone else turning green. As it was he focused on not puking while shaking his head cautiously. "Nah." Clint wished that he felt and sounded surer. "But a punching bag would be great."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'll get you a glass of water, then you can take a nap. You're delirious if you imagine that I'll let you work out in that condition."

"Killjoy."

"Reckless idiot."

The brief, barely noticeable squeeze she gave his hand and his responding one spoke the truth.

Clint spoke again once Natasha had left the room. No matter how quiet he was, the noise seemed to try and split his skull. "Think you can dim the lights?"

Bruce did, as much as was possible. "Sorry I can't give you more pain meds. Dr. Cho said that it wouldn't be a good idea before things are a bit more… stable."

"'s fine. No more meds." It didn't matter how much agony he was in. Clint didn't want anything that would've clouded his head even further. He felt out of control enough already.

Bruce shifted with an expression of helplessness. Clearly it irked the scientist that he couldn't do more. "Cho and I will check your hearing and eyesight when the headache's eased a bit. But… I think it's safe to say that they're both going haywire."

Clint groaned. "Just like everything in me. I'm such an overachiever." He attempted to make it sound like a joke but failed miserably.

Bruce did smile back, though. Just a little. And it wasn't the pitying kind. The scientist ran a hand through his hair. There was far too much guilt in the man's eyes. "Look… If there's anything I can do… Just name it."

"Any chance you could smuggle in a beer?"

Bruce didn't quite laugh. But the grin was a genuine one. On a horrible day such as this one Clint counted it a win.

The moment Bruce entered the room behind the plexiglass and saw the expressions Dr. Cho and Tony wore he winced. The two were examining Clint's test results. "Things look that good, huh?"

"I see some abnormalities." The frown on Dr. Cho's face wasn't a promising sign. "Whatever those people did to him… It changed his DNA. Which probably explains his powers. And I don't like the look of his vitals. His blood pressure is all over the place. He's dehydrated and his temperature is far too high."

"Yeah, well… Sparky over there has flames shooting out of his hands." Tony's tone probably wasn't as light as the man wanted it to be. "Might explain the fever. He's literally burning up."

"Awww, are you worried, Tin Can? I'm touched", Clint joked feebly. When the archer glanced towards the glass separating them the man's eyes were bleary from exhaustion and pain. "I sort of like that new superhero name, by the way."

Tony scoffed. "Nice to know that your sense of humor hasn't been toasted. Now sleep. You look like you could use it."

Clint rolled his eyes. "I've been turned into a human-shaped cigarette lighter. How the hell am I supposed to sleep?"

"Language", Tony and Bruce chorused, Natasha rolled her eyes.

Insane, all of them, Dr. Cho decided with a smile on her face. And decided to do whatever she could to ensure that a piece of this bizarre team – family, whatever it was – wouldn't be lost. She could only hope that her best effort would be enough.

Clint didn't know when and how he fell asleep, especially when he shouldn't have been able to find rest when he felt so uncomfortable. He dreamt of flames. Of being on fire. He woke up with a loud gasp, his heart hammering painfully and his eyes darting around frantically. His whole body ached, like there was actual fire gnawing at it. And he couldn't figure out…

"Clint, breathe. Calmly." Somehow Natasha's voice was able to ground him at least partially, even it that extreme moment. "Whatever is going on inside that thick skull of yours… Get a grip. Your hands are starting to glow."

Clint gulped several greedy, desperate breaths. Until finally, remarkably, he began to feel at least somewhat steady. He groaned as his body started to shake. "Sorry…" He wasn't supposed to come so close to losing it. Especially with a friend in the same room.

"Stop being a moron or I have to smack you." She sat down slowly, giving him plenty of time to adjust to the situation. "So, here's the thing. I have a sandwich Tony fought pretty hard for, and it's got your name on it. Interested?"

Clint was acutely aware of the fact that he hadn't eaten anything in… he had no idea how long. And it would've probably been a good idea to have at least that sandwich. But his stomach rolled even at the thought. "Keep it safe for me until morning?"

"I can't make any promises. Tony seemed pretty hungry." There was a brief pause, during which she studied him intently. "Indigo flames? That's new."

Clint looked towards his hands and was dismayed to discover that once again tiny flames coated his fingers. They were pretty to look at. Which didn't make them any less painful or potentially dangerous.

Clint was so deep in thought that he shivered when a finger poked at his shoulder. There was uncharacteristically open worry in Natasha's eyes. "You've been glaring at your hand for the past three minutes. You need sleep."

Clint rolled his eyes. The idea of falling asleep didn't seem very appealing when he had dreams of an inferno to look forward to. "I just woke up", he pointed out with the stubbornness of a child.

It was Natasha's turn to roll her eyes. "You look ready to drop. Fortunately I know how infuriatingly stubborn you can be, so I came prepared." She fished out her phone and fiddled with it for a while, then pressed it against his ear.

Clint's heart thudded when he heard Laura's voice. "Lila, auntie Tasha said that daddy's having some trouble sleeping. What do you think, would a song help?"

Lila had barely started 'Twinkle, twinkle little star' before the flames died out entirely and Clint's eyelids began to flutter. He was sleeping soundly before she was halfway through. Which was why he never heard her final words before the recording ended. "Goodnight, daddy. Don't have bad dreams anymore. Love you."

A few times Clint wondered, because it was better to wonder that than… other things, where Steve was. He heard the soldier a couple of times, but the man never actually entered his room. Until, on day three after the madness began, persistent fever pushed the archer into a brief but unpleasant bout of seizures.

It took Clint infuriatingly long to come around afterwards. When he did his far too sharp ears alerted him of a presence. He tensed up until he recognized his companion.

Given Steve's own Super Soldier status, the man had to know that he was awake. But the man never spoke. Just stayed there, a respectful distance away from the bed but close enough for it to feel supportive. Keeping watch.

That presence was enough to lull Clint into a dreamless slumber.

Considering how feeble the changes in Clint's body made the man, it was a shock when two days later the archer's bed was discovered empty. Of course no one could actually remain missing for long with the Tower's surveillance. Thor happened to be the one closest, so he was also the one who entered the balcony.

Clint sat on the railing. Had it been anyone else, the sight would've been incredibly alarming. But the Hawk seemed perfectly at home with the wind ruffling his hair. The man did have the decency to give him a sheepish grin, though. "Sorry. I just… needed a break."

Thor nodded. "Understandable." He looked around and inhaled the fresh, crisp night air. "It's very peaceful here."

"Hmm." Clint's nose twitched. "Do you have coffee?"

Thor shifted, a flash of guilt crossing him. With the still lingering nausea and wildly bouncing blood pressure his friend wasn't allowed to have coffee just yet. And the archer's love for caffeine was one of the first things he learned about the man. "Ah… Yes." He cleared his throat. "It's cold by now."

Clint tensed up, a thoughtful look appearing to his face. The man swallowed loudly. "Can I… try something?" The archer reached out a hand that was admirably steady. "Just… Give me the mug. And stand back. I mean, way back. Just in case."

A hint of curiosity mixed with worry while Thor obeyed. He wondered what, exactly, was a safe distance. And what he'd be able to do if things went wrong.

Tiny flames, this time a blinding bright mixture of gold and ruby-red, could be seen. Clint focused intently, just like before firing an arrow, and gritted his teeth so hard that it had to hurt. Whatever was going on seemed to painful. But the archer pushed forward stubbornly. Until steam rose from the mug.

After a few tense moments the flames disappeared and a relieved, surprised grin rose to Clint's face. "How about that. Maybe I can get a hang of this, after all."

Thor couldn't help but grin as well, because at that moment it felt like something had been won.

The following morning Dr. Cho and Bruce were inspecting a set of test results with grim expressions when Natasha walked in, carrying a file. "It was hidden. But we finally got it." She tossed the file at them. 'Barton, Clint', said the sticker on top of it.

Both doctors began to flip through it eagerly. Maybe they'd finally get a clearer picture of what happened to Clint. The optimism lasted until they began to really, truly register what they were looking at.

Bruce groaned. Loudly. And ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "That place really did a number on him."

Dr. Cho's eyes were widening slowly yet steadily. "I… don't think that's the case. See the date?" She pointed towards the top of one of the pages. "These results… They're from before… whatever it was that transformed him was administrated. It just enhanced what we're looking at right now. And the changes to DNA I mentioned earlier… Some of them are already visible here."

"What are you saying?" Natasha demanded, and the doctor wondered if that was what she sounded like when she was afraid.

Dr. Cho swallowed. Barely believing what she was about to say. "Clint Barton wasn't one hundred percent human even before this was done to him."

Now she definitely had to call an old friend.

While everyone else was busy a member of the Tower's medical team entered the room that'd become Clint's very own prison. When Clint woke up to his senses alerting him of a presence, he looked around blearily. And soon imagined that he was still asleep. Because… "But… You're…"

"Shh…" A needle pierced his skin much faster than his sluggish muscles could react. "Nice and still… Soon we'll have a show to remember…"

Tony gave the nurse leaving the room as he arrived a brief look of appreciation, but barely registered her face. "Morning, Sparky. I…" He frowned upon discovering that his friend was on his knees on the floor, gasping for breath. The spark of alarm was like an electric shock. "Clint, what the…?"

"Get… out." There was no missing the despair in Clint's hissing voice. "Tony, get… out."

That was when Tony realized that flames were not only rising from Clint hands, but from the archer's whole body. And as desperately as he wanted to help, he knew that he wasn't fireproof. So there was only one thing he could do. He ran, slammed the door closed and felt like a pathetic coward.

Tony could do nothing but watch from behind the special-made glass how inside the room Clint exploded to an inferno. Screaming, howling, from the bottom of his heart and soul. Dark-purple and indigo flames engulfed the archer, sealing the man to a merciless embrace. The fire shot through the whole room, scorching the bedsheets and bedside table and making metal bend. Tony groaned and ducked, the light blinding him.

After the firestorm there was only silence. By the time Tony could see again the flames were gone. Clint lay on the floor, eyes closed and struggling with wheezing gasps.

Tony swallowed thickly. Every single bit of him trembled, as did his voice. "Clint?"

Then the gasps stopped, leaving the archer absolutely still and lifeless.

"CLINT!

TBC

A/N: So. Yeah. I'm mean. (whistles innocently and ducks to dodge thrown objects)

Soooo… Was that ANY good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you.

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll all stay tuned for that one.

Take care!

randomfan: Here it finally comes! (BEAMS) I REALLY hope that it's worth the wait.

Huge thank yous for the review!