On the final lap of your run around the Reflecting Pool at Lincoln Memorial, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; if you didn't know better you would say that the vibration felt frantic. Turning off your music, you sat on the steps to catch your breath and take a quick drink of water to cool down. Looking at the phone you were shocked to see that you had missed three calls from Agent Hill in the last ten minutes.
"Maria, what's going on?"
"It's about damn time you answer your phone." Her voice sounded annoyed, but she didn't push it any further. "We need you to come in. Coulson is on the way to pick up Stark in New York, then he'll swing down to get you on the way back."
Pouring your cool water on the back of your neck, you shuddered at not only the change in temperature, but the idea of having to ride in close quarters with Tony Stark. The popular opinion of him around SHIELD was that he was a major pain in the ass. "Really? Can't I just get my own ride? What's so urgent that Coulson has to-"
"(Y/N). Barton's been compromised."
~~~
You remained silent on the flight to the helicarrier, successfully managing to avoid that Stark guy altogether up to this point. Agent Coulson filled you in on the events leading up to this moment, and in your hands lay a tablet full of information on an Asgardian named Loki, his brother Thor, the Tesseract, Dr. Bruce Banner, Tony Stark (of course), and the recently-found-alive Captain America. Despite the order from Fury to verse yourself in all of these details, any thoughts you had were focused on Clint.
Barton had quickly become one of your closest friends as you joined SHEILD within only a few weeks of each other. You really had nothing in common other than your desire to serve and protect. He was a few years older than you and gave himself the role of 'protective big brother' without allowing you any choice in the matter, even when your fighting skills grew to surpass his. Clint was one of the strongest people you knew, so for him to be turned was a shock and confusing to you.
Closing your eyes, you rested your head against the wall of the jet; studying would have to wait. Your solitude was interrupted as you closed in on the landing pad.
"Hey, I'm Tony. You are?"
"Agent (Y/L/N)." Standing to gather your gear, you moved towards the rear door of the jet, ready to disembark.
"Okay. Nice chat."
~~~
Taking your station on the bridge, you pulled up any and all files that SHIELD had on Clint Barton, hoping to find some hint as to where he might go. With him under Loki's spell, he could be anywhere and likely wasn't himself anyway. You were grasping at straws trying to come up with anything that would lead you to him.
You startled as a hand rested on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm being sent to talk to Loki. You should listen in." Nodding silently, you brought up the view of the detention cell on your screen as Natasha walked away.
"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work. And when he screams, I'll split his skull."
This guy had your blood boiling. If given the chance, you would kill him yourself.
"So, Banner. That's your play."
As the director ran from the bridge towards the lab, Maria threw you an earpiece to stay connected with the rest of the team, anticipating trouble. You checked your gun for ammunition and secured the knives you had strapped inside each of your boots. The argument from the lab grew louder in your ear, the discussion overlapping so you couldn't discern conversations. Seconds later an explosion rocked the ship, alarms blaring and power fluctuating.
"(Y/N)!" You sighed with relief as Fury was still alive, calling to you for a report.
"External detonation, number three engine is down!" People were now scurrying around the bridge, unsure of what had actually happened. "Somebody's got to get outside and patch that engine!"
"Hostiles are in SHIELD gear! Call outs at every junction!"
You knew Clint was amongst them. He had the skills to take the helicarrier down in a way that was quickly effective. Could you take him out if you had to? Would he even know you; enough to not kill you to achieve his mission? Your anxiety began to build as you considered the idea of having to kill your best friend.
"Grenade!"
Hill threw herself over you, taking you both over the railing and into the pit below. The force of the explosion pushed you from her grip and sent you flying into the bank of computers, your back hitting the edge and your head shattering one of the screens. You slumped down onto the floor, unable to stand. You felt like you were spinning and everything hurt. Your eyes were burning but you couldn't open them to wipe them clear. A warm sensation ran down your face, bleeding from where your head slammed into the monitor.
The familiar sound of an arrow being released from its bow came from above you, followed by gunfire. You slowly tried to force your eyes open, despite the searing pain you felt in them. You had to see if Clint was really the one doing this, but most of all you needed to know that he was still alive.
"Engine one is now in shutdown. We are in an uncontrolled descent."
As the ship began to tip, you could feel yourself losing consciousness. Finally willing yourself to open your eyes, you gasped at what you saw. You saw nothing.
Absolute blackness.
~~~
"How many agents did I...?"
"Don't do that to yourself, Clint."
"Nat, tell me. Is (Y/N) here? Is she okay?"
When she didn't respond, looking at the floor rather than at him, Clint sprinted from the room desperate to find you. As he entered the hallway, Fury was standing in front of him, blocking his path.
"Barton-"
"Tell me where she is. Tell me right now." Clint was panting, scared of the answer that the director might give him. Fury regarded him for a moment, deciding if this was the real Barton or still the one under mind control. "Room 6. But Barton-"
He ran immediately, thrusting himself thru the doors to your room. He stopped at the sight of you, attached to monitors and IV tubing, your eyes covered with thick bandages. "(Y/N). (Y/N), it's me. It's actually me this time." As he looked at the multiple wounds and surgery sites, he was openly crying now, remorseful at his actions that brought you here. "I don't know what to say...I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to..." his sobs were now catching his breath as he lowered his head to rest on the rail of your bed.
"It wasn't your fault." Your voice was rough and your throat burned from the chemicals in the grenade. "Clint, it's okay. The doctor said the explosion burned my corneas, but when they heal my sight should come back. Kinda makes the concussion, fractured ribs, ruptured spleen and cracked vertebrae not seem so bad, right?" You gave a small chuckle, hoping to stop him from punishing himself.
"(Y/N), stop." You felt his hand take yours in a firm grasp. "I'm going to take care of you. Right after I kill that son of a bitch. If I put an arrow thru Loki's eye socket, I might sleep better, I suppose."
"Now you sound like you."
~~~
At your insistence, Maria snuck a communicator into your room so that you could listen in on the battle in New York. She wasn't about to turn down a request from the sad blind lady. The battle was terrifying, and as much as you had wanted to be there, you were glad you weren't actually there.
After hours of listening to a battle that you couldn't even imagine, your anxiety at its peak, it finally came to a close. After he saved the city, perhaps your ideas of who Tony Stark is need to be reconsidered. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
"Hey, I'm not dead." As he entered your room, Clint's voice was tired and beaten. He was clearly exhausted, but he refused to rest until he saw you again. "I've arranged to take you home with me. We're gonna get you back to as good as new." He bent down to kiss your forehead, holding his lips there for a moment, closing his eyes. "You're gonna be okay. I promise."
A week later you were allowed to leave, but your eyes were still bandaged. Not sure of where he was taking you, you sat quietly in the jet, waiting for him to land. This was first time you had both gone this long without speaking, even if only for a few hours. It felt like he was reconsidering taking you with him. You sighed, preparing to ask him, but the jet began to make its descent. "We're here, kid. Time to go."
"And where exactly are we, might I ask?" You pointed to your eyes, "All looks the same to me, remember?"
He groaned at this, clearly still upset with himself. He stood and took your hand, leading you from the jet door. As you stepped out you could feel the warmth from the sun on your skin and a gentle breeze thru your hair. The air had a scent of lilacs and freshly cut grass, and now you really wondered where he had taken you.
"Hi, (Y/N), I'm Laura." A soft hand took yours, gently bringing you into the house. "Let's get you settled. Are you hungry?"
Your mouth hung open, completely confused as to who this woman was. "I'm, uh...I'm sorry. I don't know who you are." You laughed quietly, shaking your head, "Apparently I don't know Clint as well as I thought. Alright," you reached up for the bandages that covered your eyes, "I'm done with this."
"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?" Clint grabbed your hands, trying to pull them away. "You still have to wait three more days! That's what the doctor said!"
Taking a step back, you pulled your hands sharply away from his and continued to remove the thick gauze. "Barton, back off."
As the bandages were pulled away, you kept your eyes closed; they were still a bit sore and you were scared of what you would, or rather, wouldn't see. Clint moved in front of you, cupping his hands on either side of your face.
"No matter what, I'm here, okay?" You could hear the pain in his voice as it cracked slightly with his words. "This is my doing."
Slowly opening your eyes, you gasped loudly at the sight before you. The woman, Laura, standing with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide, brimming with tears for a woman she didn't even know. Two small children were next to her, watching curiously and not understanding what was happening. Clint was in front of you, his eyes were hopeful but his expression was cautious.
Giving him a skeptical look, you leaned in close to his ear so that only he would hear.
"I didn't see that coming."