A/N: Phew! I've had a chunk of this typed for a long while. Now I FINALLY got the whole thing go-ready. Yay…?

FIRST, though… THANK YOU, a million times, for all your reviews, love and support! They SERIOUSLY mean the world to me. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I left you on a bit of a cliffie… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

TO MAKE THINGS CLEAR: This story takes place before 'Age of Ultron' in the Marvel-timeline. Sooo, baby-Nate hasn't been born yet, there's been no Ultron and the Avengers (sans Nat) don't know about Clint's family.

Everything (Not) Under Control

Clint seriously didn't rush in to save the baby to get attention. He did the deed with his mind locked fully on the task at hand. With a sigh of relief he surrendered his precious cargo to the protective arms of a police officer.

That… was intense.

His ears perked up to detect a familiar sound long before Tony landed in his Iron Man suit. The billionaire lifted the suit's facial part to reveal a very unimpressed expression. "Having fun, Sparky?"

Clint smirked sheepishly. "Sorry I took off. I just had to…"

"Save that for Nat. She seemed ready to punch someone when I left." Tony gave him a look. "Let's… just get back to the Tower. Because… You managed to burn up pretty much all your clothes. And you've got about half a million phones filming you."

Clint felt his cheeks color. He shifted self-consciously. "Oh…"

"Yeah." Tony grimaced, then put the facial part back in place. "I'll give you a ride. This once. Just know that if… Little-Clint touches me, I'll drop you."

As soon as Clint had gotten dressed Dr. Cho gave him a proper checkup. She had no idea what to think about the results. "I don't see any burns and there doesn't seem to be smoke inhalation. Your heartrate and blood pressure are fine. Temperature's a little elevated but not alarmingly so…" She made some notes with a strong feeling that she appeared as baffled as she felt. "I… honestly have no idea what to say."

"So I'll live?" Clint joked, even if it didn't come out quite as lightly as he probably hoped.

"To a hundred", Natasha confirmed firmly. She hadn't left his side for even a second since his return, understandably worried that he'd do something stupid again. The glare she had fixed on him would've scared most people. "Unless you're an idiot again and make me strangle you."

Clint gave her a positively disarming smile that seemed to come with practiced ease.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You think that's gonna get you out of trouble? Not this time. If you imagine that I'm mad just wait until you call Laura."

Clint winced. "That bad?"

"You get kidnapped. Go through scientific experiments. Pretty much die for a while. Develop superpowers." Natasha jawline clenched but hearing him talking, sounding like himself, was obviously helping her relax. "She's not happy."

"Laura?" Dr. Cho interjected with amusement. "Girlfriend?"

"Don't have one", Clint offered with a grin. Obviously sitting down doing nothing was becoming unbearable. His left foot was tapping impatiently and he glared around the room with nearly wild, trapped eyes.

Feeling deep sympathy towards him, she put away his file. "Look… You didn't lose control even when you walked into a burning building. And you're not bursting into flames now. I think it's safe to take a break from this room. Assuming that you won't try to play a superhero."

The way Clint's eyes lit up suggested that Christmas just arrived.

"Claustrophobia?" Dr. Cho suggested when Clint was out of earshot. Or she thought he was. What was out of his earshot anymore?

"Bad mission in Pattaya." The protective gleam in Natasha's eyes suggested that the memory was still sore and unpleasant for her, too. She then focused her attention fiercely on present time. "This sudden improvement of his… I don't trust it."

Dr. Cho sighed. "Me neither", she admitted reluctantly. Which was why she consulted an old friend. Now, if only the man would call back…

Steve found Clint from one of the Tower's balconies. The archer sat there in some bizarre yoga-pose, eyes closed and visibly too tense for comfort. The man's deep but sharp breaths weren't those someone who was relaxing. The Captain shifted. "Is it… okay to be out of bed yet?" Because, seriously…

"Nah, I'm okay." Clint showed him his hand. It wasn't steady but there was no smoke or fire. "See? No sparking. I'm just…" The archer groaned and opened his eyes. "I'm trying relax, a little. But this yoga-crap of Tasha and Coulson isn't working with half the world screaming in my ear."

Steve winced. The sensory overload had to be overwhelming. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually… Yeah." Clint grinned and despite still being a little pale the man finally looked more like himself. "I've been lazing around. I need a sparring session."

Steve stared. Wondering if there was something wrong with his ears. "You… want to spar?" He shook his head firmly. "Clint…!"

"Rogers, I'm going out of my mind with nothing to do but listening to and watching the world around me! I just… I need to blow off some steam."

Steve was powerless against the pleading eyes directed at him. He groaned. "If Nat hears about this you're on your own."

Even a few minutes later Steve definitely didn't share Clint's enthusiasm as he braced himself for their sparring session. His friend was clinically dead about a day earlier. This couldn't possibly be a good idea! "If you start feeling dizzy or if there's any pain say so, and we'll stop. If you even feel out of breath…"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Cap, there's a mother-henning AI keeping an eye on my vitals. I'm fine. Trust me."

'I'm fine.' How many times had he heard that one again…? But, knowing that there was nothing he could do to change his stubborn friend's mind, Steve sighed heavily. "Right. Let's get started."

"Wait!" Clint shifted with evident discomfort. "You've gotta tell me stop if I start… smoking, or lighting up. Or something like that. Just in case I don't notice." They both knew that the archer would never forgive himself if his newly discovered ability would harm his friend.

Steve's smile was a soft, hopefully reassuring one. "I will", he promised. Then rolled his shoulders. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Nat is going to kill me for this…

Clint had sparred with Steve countless of times before. And even with his almost unmatched strength the Captain was fairly predictable, at least to someone with Clint's field and life experience. He knew what was coming.

The second Steve's fist came flying Clint went down and swept smoothly with his leg. Steve jumped to avoid ending up off his feet and fell right into a trap. Standing effortlessly on his hands a split second after he'd been grouching, the archer outstretched one leg in what was more of a push than a kick. It hit Steve in the chest and the soldier, who'd been momentarily in a bad balance, slipped and fell.

When the Captain jumped up gracefully a couple of seconds later Clint was standing firmly on his feet with a smirk. "See? Fine."

Steve grinned back. "Sorry I doubted you." A heartbeat before the last word came out properly they were already spinning around each other. Kicks and punches flew with practiced ease, harsh but not enough so to cause actual harm.

Clint dodged to the left and swung. His knuckles collided with the Captain's cheek, briefly but still. "Apology accepted."

A lot of Clint's skills had been learned from the streets and people he really, honestly should've had nothing to do with. Over the years he'd developed his very own fighting style, one that made him lethal despite not being the biggest fighter. He was also unhealthily stubborn and as resilient as a cockroach. He had no idea if any of those things were any match against a super soldier but he was planning on giving his friend a run for his money. He seriously needed this exercise after spending all that time just laying around in a bed. He needed to feel that he was still able to defend himself after getting captured and having sick scientific experiments done to him.

Clint lost track of time, somewhere along the way. His sharp eyes, which still felt brand-new to him after all his senses had been enhanced violently, observed every single one of his friend's motions. Calculated, predicted. There wasn't a single attack he didn't see coming. And eventually he saw an opportunity.

Kicking furiously, he jumped into the air just as Steve was focused on charging forward, spun fiercely and kicked about a second before landing smoothly on his two feet. His friend fell with a thud, a look of surprise in his eyes. Clint shook his head. "Why are you pulling punches?"

Steve gave him a weird look. "I'm… not."

"Oh." Clint decided to file away that information, at least for a moment. "Ready to continue?"

Steve grinned. Already back in his fighting pose. "I could keep this up all day."

"So could I", he returned.

They might've done just that it Bruce didn't show up just then. "Okay, enough. Both of you." There was a degree of alarm in the scientist's eyes. "Time to take a break."

Clint frowned. "I'm not out of breath. Or hurting." A flare of alarm then crossed his whole being. "I'm not catching fire, am I?" Was he losing control and didn't even notice?

Mercifully Bruce shook his head quickly. "No, no. But… You've been sparring for two and a half hours." The scientist frowned, examining him critically with his gaze. "How do you feel?"

Clint couldn't help it. He burst into laughter. "I feel amazing." Enough so for it to scare him, actually.

All euphoria vanished when he noticed the startled, deeply alarmed eyes Bruce had aimed at his hands. "Clint… Focus. Deep breaths. Get it together. Now."

Confused, Clint looked towards the same direction. In an instant he saw flames dancing all over his hands, going high up enough to lick at his wrists. His chest constricted. "Well. Crap."

His stomach dropped when the bitter reality of things came crashing down on him.

A nurse from the Tower's medical team came running with a needle and a syringe, without a doubt intending to knock Clint down. Bruce held her back firmly with his arm. Someone forcing drugs into the archer's system right now would only make things worse.

Watching Clint struggling all alone, unable to do a thing to help but murmur useless words, was excruciating. The archer kept grunting from pain and general discomfort, trembling miserably. Fighting with absolutely everything he had to not lose control entirely.

"It's okay", Bruce assured. "Deep breaths. You can do it." He knew this pain and hated that one of his friends had to suffer through it.

Agonizingly slowly the last of the flames faded away. They were just about to sigh from relief when Clint's knees buckled, the strain and fading adrenaline getting the better of him. Steve was just in time to catch his friend before the man would've hit the floor. "C'mon. Let's get you away from here."

Bruce watched the two leave, still a bit too tense for it to be safe. He was glad that someone else had taken charge for now. But he also knew that he and Clint would need to have a talk once the archer felt better. He wasn't looking forward to it.

Clint didn't remember much about the next couple of hours. He found out that so much time had passed when he checked his phone. A shiver of alarm went down his spine.

What…?!

He recognized the room around him as the one that'd been named as his, once upon a time. Not the new, fireproof one but the old one. And somehow he'd ended up to a shower. He had no idea how long he'd been there but if the redness of his skin was any indication it'd been more than a couple of minutes.

"Mr. Barton?" a computer voice inquired. "You seem to be in a distress. Do you acquire assistance?"

Clint shuddered at the thought. He'd already been rescued practically naked today. He wasn't in the mood for another humiliation. "No thanks, Jarv", he declined quickly. "I'm… I'm good." With a deep, steadying breath he stepped out of the shower, toweled himself and pulled on the clothes he'd scattered to the floor. Now, with all the adrenaline from earlier fading, he was feeling drained. The pounding in his head felt like the worst hangover he'd ever suffered.

So much for feeling amazing…

Well, at least feeling miserable helped him remember that there was something he'd neglected to do. He swallowed thickly as he slumped to the edge of his bed and grabbed his phone with an unsteady hand. After gathering courage for a long while he finally made the call.

Of course Laura picked up almost instantly. "Clint? Hey. How are you feeling?"

To think that there was a time when that was a simple question… He swallowed. "I'm… a bit freaked out. But doing better."

Laura didn't say anything for a long time. The unmistakable sound of a muffled sob tore at his heart. "Dr. Cho, and Banner… Have they been able to say when you can… When you can come home?" She snorted at herself. It sounded awfully lot like another sob. "Sorry, hormones. I just… I almost lost you, twice now, and… I just want you home, where I can see you. Hug you. And maybe smack you."

Clint closed his eyes and felt like sharp nails had been carving at his heart. This, admitting what he'd have to out loud… "Laura… I can't come home yet", he forced out quietly. Spitting the words like poison. "I… I'm barely in control over myself. I'm dangerous. Before… Before I get a hang of… this, and myself… I can't come home." The Tower was a safe place, he wouldn't be able to destroy it. But the Farm… The thought of accidentally burning down the building and his family… There was no way he'd be able to live with himself if that happened.

"I know." Laura didn't sound annoyed or angry. Just incredibly sad and disappointed. Which was actually worse. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Any idea how long that may take?"

Clint couldn't give her an answer when he had none, at least the kind that wouldn't have torn both their hearts to pieces. Because, the truth was… There was no telling how long it'd take to fix him, before he'd get a hang of things. There was no telling if he'd be there for the birth of his third child. There was no telling if he'd ever be safe enough to go home.

Laura, of course, heard his unvoiced answer, anyway. It was terribly quiet for a while. Until a child started to cry. Lila. "I've gotta go", Laura whispered softly and sniffled, just once.

Clint swallowed thickly. He absolutely hated doing this to the woman he loved. His own eyes blurred. "Okay. I…" The call was disconnected. "… love you." At first he imagined that she hung up on him, until he realized that the phone was so warm it'd practically melted.

How befitting, since it seemed that he destroyed everything he touched…

Clint buried his face into his hands, feeling absolutely gutted. He had to use all his remaining reserves to keep himself from losing it. Company, having to worry about the safety of someone else, was the last thing he needed or wanted.

Which, of course, was when there was a knock. "Clint?" Bruce's gentle voice did little to comfort him. "Can I come in?"

Clint cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, sure, just… Just give me a sec." He cleared his throat again, just to be sure that his voice wouldn't crack. Then opened the door. "I… haven't torched the place yet", he joked feebly.

Bruce gave him a look of deep sympathy upon entering. "I'm going to teach you some techniques I use to keep the Other Guy at bay. First, though…" The scientist had reluctance written all over his face. "I'm sorry, this is the last thing you need right now. But… You deserve to know."

Clint groaned and rubbed his face roughly with one hand. "Just spit it out", he suggested. "This day can't get a lot worse from here."

Bruce hesitated. Then clearly decided to just bite the bullet. "I'm… not sure how much you remember about your past. But… You didn't get all your powers while you were captured."

Evening was already darkening quickly when Dr. Cho's phone rang. She wasted no time before picking up when she noticed who the caller was. "Karl, hey. I was wondering when you'd get my message."

"I just received it." Dr. Karl Malus' tone didn't promise anything good. "I've… encountered the kind of substance that seems to have been given to your patient. Is he stable?"

She checked the security footage. Clint lay in his bed, curled up so that all she could see was his back. He was trembling. "Not exactly", she sighed.

"I'm not surprised. That substance takes effect quickly, but when it wears off… The results can be catastrophic."

Dr. Cho groaned. And here she thought that things couldn't get much worse… "I was afraid you'd say something like that."

"I'm sorry." And he did sound sorry. "But if the patient doesn't get another dosage or special treatment soon, he may die."

Dr. Malus' hand shook when he hang up to call and licked his lips. He shook his head although he knew how futile the protest was. "This… I can't…"

"You will", the woman stood right behind him interrupted, razor sharp and velvet smooth all at once. She leaned as close to his ear as humanly possible and nodded subtly towards the other woman hiding in the shadows covering the massive room's other side. From there another, equally menacing presence observed the exchange. "Or that pathetic drunk daughter of hers will be sold instead. How do you think she'd react to that? Do you imagine that you'd still have the situation under control?"

Dr. Malus' shoulders slumped. Fight drained from him, leaving him achy and hollow. "Leave Jessica out of this."

"In that case keep your mouth shut and let grown-ups finish up the business. Yes?" Satisfied with his lack of response, the woman focused on the room's fourth occupant. "Congratulations on your excellent purchase, Secretary Ross."

Ross' nose wrinkled. "I despise Hydra. And I despise… his kind. However… I can't overlook the value someone with his abilities could have in the right hands." He inhaled sharply, as though actually feeling physically ill. "Now, give me the control words."

The woman clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Not before the payment. Once that has been taken care of I will arrange everything."

Ross was already sitting in a car on his way back to his office when he received a phone call. It took him mere seconds to pick up. "Mr. President. Did you see the footage I sent you?" Not only of Clint rescuing the child. But also a clip that'd been hacked from the Tower's security footage. Showing the archer losing control over himself and causing an inferno that would've destroyed any other room but the one he was in.

"Yes. What is that man?"

"A threat to national security. Or an opportunity." Ross' eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Do I have your permission to act on neutralizing the threat?"

TBC

A/N: Ooooh boy… Who likes the sound of THAT? What, no one? Poor Clint. This ride is only getting bumpier for him…

As you can see, we're now almost through with the introduction part of the story. We (and the team) have had the time to get used to this… new Clint. NOW, the plot REALLY goes rolling…

Thoughts? Comments? PLEASE, do let me hear from you!

IN THE NEXT ONE: Things don't improve. And we finally find out who the nasty woman who sold Clint to Ross like a piece of meat is. We're also treated with another glimpse from Clint's past.

Until next time! I REALLY hope that you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!

MLAkittenz: I DO recognize you! Welcome aboard. (HUGS) I'm so glad that you've enjoyed the tale thus far. We'll see what insanity awaits next…

Massive thank yous for the review! Until next time.