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Brothers in Arms	By : trudyw000 Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 2931 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, the Avengers or Avengers Assemble. I make no money from this work.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3
Steve took Tony's words to heart. Within five minutes he was showered, changed and hitting the control to open the door to Tony's quarters. He'd been so quick the water in his shower had barely had time to heat up, but a hot shower had been a luxury in his day and if he'd been able to deal with the cold pre Captain America he certainly wasn't going to let it slow him down now. As soon as he'd finished dressing he'd paid a quick visit to Clint's room to pick up a change of clothes and now here he was back at Tony's and just in time.
As the door opened there was no sign of the room's official occupant other than the cloud of steam leaking around a door off to the right but there directly in front of him, wrapped in a dressing gown of rich, crimson brocade, obviously one of Tony's, was Clint. He was looking back over his shoulder as he hit the door control and hadn't noticed Steve waiting in the corridor, apparently they had both hit the control simultaneously. Darting out of the door, confident that Tony was still occupied and wouldn't be able to prevent his escape he was brought up short when he slammed into a wall, a wall that shouldn't have been there, a wall clad in a sky-blue cotton t-shirt and black, denim jeans. Bouncing back he flinched away from the arms that reached to steady him, in the process clearing the doorway so that Steve could enter, the door clanging shut behind him.
Not knowing what to say in the awkward silence that followed Steve simply thrust the bundle of clothes into Clint's arms with a muttered, "thought you'd need these" and with a wistful look at the door now blocked by Steve's impressive bulk he turned and headed back the way Tony had indicated earlier for the shower, presumably to dress.
Thoughtfully Steve settled down on the couch to think. He knew that since his transformation people sometimes found him physically imposing, he'd even played on that occasionally to inspire fear in his enemies, but to see that fear in the eyes of a friend, that was something he'd never imagined and something he never wanted to see again. As he sat he began to sink into the brooding darkness that took hold of him far too frequently for his own peace of mind, something that had only happened since he awoke to find himself alone, a man displaced from his own time. But before he had time to sink too far the door across the room opened and Tony stepped through.
"Ah, I thought I heard the door." Tony greeted his guest, "is he still..." he trailed off, gesturing to the other shower door.
"He was just leaving when I got back," he held up a hand to forestall Tony who looked about ready to set out in pursuit once more at Steve's words. "I brought him some clothes, he's back in there dressing."
"How come you get such large quarters, this must be twice the of mine or Clint's rooms?" Steve asked, the question had been bugging him since he'd first entered the room maybe ten minutes earlier.
"It is twice the size of yours, Clint's or anyone else's quarters," Tony replied, "Mine," he gestured to one half of the room, "Pepper's" waving an arm over the other half. "I had them knocked through."
The strait-laced, forties man inside of Steve was somewhat shocked at the couple sharing quarters outside of wedlock but he knew things were more relaxed these days and he tried not to judge, instead he asked, "and Fury allowed that?"
"Ah, well, he might not actually know yet." Tony clarified.
Steve just quirked an eyebrow at the admission when he was suddenly struck by another thought, "if these are Miss Potts, Pepper's quarters, where is she going to be spending the night?"
"She mentioned something about a girly night in with Natasha." At Steve's confused look he elaborated, "a slumber-party."
Steve's mind balked at trying to envisage it, his confusion wasn't because he didn't know what a girly night in was, they'd had them, even back in his day, hell he'd be prepared to bet cave girls had had them! It was simply the idea of the Black Widow indulging in one! Pepper, sure he could see that, giggling, watching chick-flicks and painting toe-nails, not often but he could see it happening now and then. But Natasha, the picture refused to render in his mind's eye and he shook off the somewhat disturbing image to return to the business at hand.
Before he had a chance to ask Tony about the plan for tonight however the door behind him opened and Clint walked back into the room. As he stepped into Steve's line of sight, dressed in the skin-tight black jeans and practically spray-on black wife-beater Steve saw that the mask was now firmly back in place. However, having had a glimpse behind the mask Steve now found the cracks much easier to spot and he hoped that Tony's plan, whatever it was, would work.
"Well, thanks for the shower, I'd better get going, I'm sure you guys have plans for tonight," and Clint tried to breeze past his host to escape the room.
"Not so fast, we've all been working our asses off trying to get this flying heap back together. We've earned a night off." And blocking the path to the door, Tony directed his captive towards the couch were Steve sat.
"Really, I have to go," Clint tried again, resisting the, not too gentle, pressure from Tony to take a seat, "I have a shift scheduled, they're expecting me."
"No they're not, I spoke to Clive," at Clint's blank look he clarified, "the foreman on duty tonight. I told him you have other plans, it's time we had a boys night in!"
Stymied Clint allowed Tony to steer him to a seat, vowing internally to get out of there as soon as possible. It was nice of the guys to pretend they wanted to spend time with him but it was obvious that it couldn't be what they really wanted. Not after all he'd done, the damage he'd caused, the people he'd killed.
It wasn't often that Tony Stark was serious about anything, but at this moment he was seriously worried about Clint. When Clint had shaken off Loki's hold, aided by a thump upside the head from the Black Widow, Tony had seen a brash, confident warrior, a man brave and fearless who had played a vital role in the final battle. After the battle though, when things had calmed down and people had time to think Clint had changed. The brash confidence was still there, but it no longer seemed genuine, now it looked like a paper thin veneer slapped over a grieving, distraught man who thought he had no-one to turn to. Tony planned to change that tonight, show Clint that he wasn't alone in dealing with all that had happened to him, that he had Tony, Steve, in fact an entire team to turn to.
Clint sat where Tony had placed him, he watched the other two men in the room, Steve appeared to be deep in thought, and Tony was rummaging through a cupboard looking for something. He wondered how long he would have to stay before the others would let him leave. Tony had said they were having a boy's night in, strange but it looked more like an intervention to him. Then it struck him, it was an intervention, they were going to ask him to leave, what else could it be, why would they want to continue working with him after all he had done, they couldn't ever trust him again. Oh God! none of the super hero teams would want anything to do with him after what he'd done, images of dingy carnivals paraded through his mind as he remembered what his early years had been like after the death of his parents. How could he go back to that again, and without even having Barney there beside him.
Panic rose up inside of him, his eyes darted towards the exit once more but Steve was watching him, there was no way out. Suddenly there was no air in the room, Clint tried to pull oxygen into his lungs but there was none to be had, he looked to Steve and Tony, there must have been another attack, but no, Steve still sat watching him and Tony was wiping the tumblers he'd pulled from the cupboard on a glass cloth. What was going on, why were Steve and Tony unaffected by the sudden vacuum in the room. Leaning forward he struggled to breathe, to find some wisp of air in the room, to fill his starved lungs but there was nothing, his hands clenched on the edge of the seat cushion, knuckles white from the strength of his grip, his lungs tightened in his chest as his vision began to blacken about the edges.
Then suddenly someone was there, through his panic he couldn't focus on anything except the brown paper bag being held to his mouth, he tried to fight free but then the voice registered, deep and soothing, crooning into his ear, "shhh, slow down , deep, slow breaths." He instinctively knew he could trust that voice, he stopped fighting and tried to follow the instructions, it was hard, his body desperately wanted to pull in as much oxygen as it could. as fast as it could but he fought it and slowly he was winning.
As the air returned to his lungs he began to register more of what was going on, he felt a warm presence against his side, a warm hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. He realised his eyes were closed, he knew he should open them but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It had to be Steve or Tony that was helping him, holding him, or maybe not, maybe Thor or Banner had joined them, it was supposed to be a boys night in after all. Whoever it was it, was nice and, pathetic as it might be, he didn't want it to stop, after all, as soon as he was better they'd be able to get back to the original purpose of this get-together, throwing him off the team. At the thought the air, so recently returned to the room, began to leech away again and he started to struggle for breath once more. The warm body beside him shifted even closer, whoever it was must have noticed his renewed distress. A large hand landed on his knee and the gentle pressure on his back increased slightly as the soft murmurs in his ear carried on, offering quiet support and encouragement.
Eventually he knew he could delay no more, he pushed away the paper bag, but still he kept his eyes closed, his head hanging down as he steeled himself for what was coming. The gentle murmurs in his ear stopped at his actions then a different voice asked "you OK buddy?" The voice was Tony's, but it came from somewhere in front of him, so Steve was sat beside him, he wasn't sure how he knew it was still just the three of them, but he did.
Bracing himself he prepared to open his eyes, he might be pathetic enough to succumb to a panic attack but he still had some standards, he wouldn't beg for his place on the team. Taking one last deep breath he opened his eyes, "Please don't make me leave." OK, apparently his standards had fallen lower than he thought!
Tony was sat opposite him, the only other armchair in the room pulled up close so that he could rest a reassuring hand on Clint's knee, Steve was beside him, his hand a still, warm pressure between his shoulder blades. Silently he waited, he saw the small frown that appeared between Steve's brows and felt Tony's grip tighten on his knee. "You're not going anywhere," it was Tony who broke the silence, "we need to talk."
Resignation rolled over him, they were determined then, his eyes briefly fluttered closed but he forced them open once more, "There's no need, I'll clear out my quarters and hitch a ride down on the next transport." The mask he'd worn when he first stepped into the room had completely disintegrated by now and he could only manage a weary whisper as he finished, "I'm sorry."
"What part of 'you're not going anywhere' did you not understand?" Tony asked with a characteristic quirk to his eyebrow.
"Clint, why would you want to leave the ship?" Steve asked with concern.
His eyes flickered between the two men as they waited for his response. He was confused, surely they wouldn't expect him to remain as part of the work-crew, they couldn't be that cruel. Then he saw the logic in it, he had caused so much of the damage, of course they would expect him to stay and repair his handiwork. "I'm off the team, I know that, but I'll..." he never had chance to finish his sentence as beside him Steve surged to his feet.
"Who said you're off the team, if Fury thinks he can meddle in my team!" Clint had never heard the normally mild-mannered Steve Rogers sound so angry as the large man headed for the door but Tony stopped him.
"WAIT!" then in a quieter voice to Clint he asked, "why do you think you're off the team?"
Now he was really confused and getting angry, "Isn't that why we're here? So you can tell me to leave, I suppose Thor and Banner will be along later for the 'boys night in', after you two have finished taking out the trash!"
"Thor is spending the evening with Jane and Banner won't be joining us, Bruce and alcohol, not a good combination, you do not want to see The Other Guy on a bender!" Clint wondered when Tony could ever have seen the Hulk the worse for drink, Banner was generally so careful, then he realised that he was wandering away from the point.
"You're not kicking me off the team?" Clint asked hopefully as it finally began to sink in.
Steve re-took his place on the sofa next to Clint gently shaking his head, "No, we're not."
"I can stay?"
Tony nodded, "yes, you can stay."
Clint slumped back on the sofa, he felt a sudden burning lump in the back of his throat as tears threatened to force their way from his eyes, blurring his vision.
Clint was grateful for the privacy to get himself back under control as Tony moved back to his place at the sideboard and Steve's gaze followed.
"There's no point pouring one of those for me," Steve stated matter-of-factly and Clint looked up to see Tony sloshing liberal quantities of whiskey into two of the tumblers he had unearthed earlier.
"Super Soldier Serum leads to Super Fast Metabolism" Steve explained, "I burn through alcohol too fast to feel the effects."
"Ah, that may not have any effect," Tony passed a glass to Clint before raising his own to take a quick swig, "but this on the other hand..." and he reached into the cupboard to retrieve an interesting shaped bottle filled with a clear, sparkling liquid. "Thor dropped this by earlier, he had his father send it over from his private stores. It's called Odin's Vann apparently, if it's enough to get a God legless it should be enough to at least give you a bit of a buzz."
Tony half filled a tumbler before handing it to Steve who held it up to the light, eyeing it dubiously. Even in the plain glass the liquid still scintillated brightly, flashes of light sparked within, so bright they were almost painful to the eyes. Clint watched, his own untouched glass held on his knee as he wondered if Steve would actually try the drink. Of course he should never have doubted and as he watched Steve raised the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip.
You could have heard a pin drop in the room as Steve rolled the liquid about his mouth, not something you could often say of a room containing Tony Stark. Finally Steve swallowed with a pleased grin, "Ah, peppery" and this time he took a decent slug that significantly lowered the level in his glass.
Tony took a slug of his whiskey to hide his own grin, he hadn't been entirely sure this would work but the slight flush staining Steve's cheeks told him that Thor's offering was doing its job. Now he just needed to get the other guys to relax and give the alcohol time to work its magic.
Placing the two bottles within easy reach, Tony resumed his position in the lone armchair as Steve and Clint settled back on the couch. "So did you see my amazing rescue this morning?" Tony asked brightly, addressing himself to Clint and then answering his own question. "No, of course you didn't, you were too busy slinking off to play hookie in the bowels of this metal behemoth." and with that he launched into a colourful and somewhat exaggerated account of his rescue of Joe Morena that morning.
"... So then he said, 'Are you going to rescue me or not?' and obviously I couldn't just let that one lie so I came back with 'I didn't realise it was optional' and started to fly back up and he started yelling, 'Not Optional! Not Optional!" Tony cracked up at the memory. "Although by that time I could practically read the license plates of passing cars so I came up from beneath him, Superman style, and brought him back to the helicarrier." He mused silently on his own brilliance for a moment before ending with "and I now have a standing invitation to Mama Morena's place for the best Mushroom Risotto in the northern hemisphere!"
"Have I told you about my first day as Captain America?" Steve asked the room at large after they'd finished laughing at Tony's account of his feat of daring do earlier in the day. "I woke up in the morning a 90lb weakling, even shorter than Tony here!" He broke off with a laugh as the offended genius kicked him in the ankle but no further revenge seemed to be in the offing so he carried on. "Peggy drove with me to the secret facility, it was an odd drive, I wasn't used to talking to women who actually listened to what I was saying. I ended up pointing out all the places I'd been beaten up, not a great pick-up technique!"
Absentmindedly Steve held out his, now empty, glass for a refill and Tony happily obliged. He and his father had never really bonded and he was eager to hear about such a significant day, not just in Steve's life but also in his father's. Draining half the newly refilled glass Steve ruminated on that day before he continued, "The serum worked," he held wide his arms as if to offer himself as proof, "obviously. But what should have been the greatest day of my life turned to disaster when a German agent blew up the facility and killed Erskine. I chased him down, through the streets of Manhattan. I'd never before been able to run so far, so fast, hell did you know I out-swam a submarine that day!" He paused a moment, considering the immense change that his life had undergone in those few short hours.
Lost in the memory he continued as if he had forgotten that the other two men were there. "I caught the guy who did it. Heinz Kruger, one of the Red Skulls top men had insinuated his way into Senator Brandt's entourage. He didn't say much, he killed himself with a cyanide capsule, but I tell you, that man's voice would have made the pope think twice..." he trailed off realising just how much he was giving away. He watched the light sparkling within his glass, perhaps this Odin's Vann was affecting him more than he had thought.
The moment was broken seconds later as Tony grabbed up the two bottles off the floor, pouring a generous glassful of the clear liquid for Steve and slopping equally generous portions of the amber one into his and Clint's glasses.
Clint had the vague idea that he should object, but after the long days and nights working on the repairs to the helicarrier, little sleep, little food, his tolerance for alcohol was far lower than it had been at any time since his teens. And, whilst he might usually be considered a responsible adult, fully capable of saying no, he'd actually passed that point several refills back and without thinking he took a long sip, rolling the liquor around his mouth before enjoying the long, slow burn as it slipped down his throat.
They'd been talking for hours, each telling tales of their lives, some outlandish some deeply emotional and all things in between. Steve had just finished telling of the death of his best friend, Bucky Barnes, falling from a moving train as it travelled along a steep mountain pass. Clint was just trying to decide which story he should contribute next when Tony took the decision out of his hands with a seeming non-sequitur, "It wasn't your fault you know."
Looking up he expected Tony to be looking at Steve, responding to his grief at the death of the man who had been such a large part of his life, pre and post super soldier serum. But instead he found two pairs of eyes focused on himself. Darting his eyes between the two of them he shook his head, trying to clear the alcohol induced fuzz from his brain. Forcing a laugh he asked, "I'm lost, what were we talking about?"
"What Loki did, what he made you do. It wasn't your fault." Tony clarified, the words hitting Clint like a punch in the gut.
Standing he flung himself across the room, angrily making space between himself and the men who had blind-sided him. He turned, throwing out his arm and drawing in a breath to shout his anger but he stopped dead. Staring at his outflung hand he focussed on the forgotten tumbler that he held. With a shrug he brought it to his lips and drained the remaining whisky, head back and eyes closed he felt it burn its way to his stomach.
Straightening he looked again at the two men, still watching him from a few paces away across the room and his anger surged back into life. Drawing back his arm he hurled the tumbler across the room where it shattered into a million tiny shards on contact with the wall. It would have been so easy to shout, to scream and rail against Loki for what he had done to him, but he didn't. He raised a hand, pointing to Tony, saying in an uncharacteristically harsh voice "You know nothing about it! You weren't there, you don't know what it was like, to have him sifting through my mind. The knowledge he offered, it was all so clear, it made so much sense." He stood there, his hand dropped back to his side and he fell back into those days.
From the moment Loki's staff had touched his chest everything had been so clear, he'd known all he needed to know, he'd understood Loki's plan, he'd seen the utopia that would follow once mankind was released from the yoke of freedom into slavery under a benevolent god, Loki. More than that, he'd known who he needed to kill to make it happen!
He didn't even notice as he dropped to his knees, he was trapped, twisting and turning inside his own mind as he tried to reconcile the man he knew himself to be with one who could believe the lies that Loki had fed him. Then they were there, Tony and Steve kneeling beside him, holding him close, not trying to make him stand, not trying to say they understood, just there, holding him and letting him hold on to them. The silent support broke through all his barriers and the words were rent from him, "How could I not have known it was wrong, why didn't my conscience stop me? All those people dead. Selvig saw knowledge, why did I only see death?" He was sobbing now but the words that had been running on continuous loop in his head since the adrenaline had cleared after the final battle wouldn't be stopped, they burst free, "How can anyone forgive me, I can never forgive myself!" It was a relief to have them out in the open, the words that had haunted his every waking moment and wrenched him from whatever restless sleep he'd been able to snatch.
As Tony held Clint in his arms, the younger man's body shaking with the sobs that seemed drawn from the very depths of his soul, he knew that this could so easily have been him. If Loki hadn't been stupid enough to think he could take over his mind through the arc reactor in his chest he too would have fallen under the mischief gods thrall. He just hoped he'd done the right thing in forcing Clint to open up about what he'd gone through. He wasn't naive enough to think that one emotional outpouring, a few tears and Clint would be fixed, but he thought they'd made a good start. If Clint could just be brought to see that there were people there for him, that he didn't have to face this trauma alone, then Tony hoped that, in time, he would recover.
As Steve knelt, holding and supporting Clint from the other side he thought on the enigma that was Tony Stark. He watched him now, his thoughts writ plain upon his face. Steve wondered if anyone would ever believe him if he told them of this warm, compassionate man who had the courage to help his friends, even when they didn't want to be helped. A lone tear trickled down his cheek as he realised the damage that could have been done by his own, leave him to deal with it himself, policy. The damage that may already have been done. He vowed to follow Tony's lead, and to do all that was required to help Clint heal.
Finally Clint's sobs subsided and Tony gently withdrew from the three-way embrace, leaving Clint slumped in Steve's arms. Standing he took a moment to shake the kinks out of his legs from kneeling for so long. Looking down he saw Steve watching him over the tousled head that rested against his shoulder. With a quick smile he moved to open the door to his own bedroom, "bring him in here." he instructed and Steve adjusted his arms before his powerful legs thrust him upright, cradling Clint to him like a babe.
Weakly, Clint tried to object, but he was barely awake, the emotional upheaval, the alcohol and the physical exhaustion all contributing to his weakened condition. "I can stand," he said as he pushed at Steve's chest trying to convince the larger man to release him.
But Steve just hitched him closer and his gentle, "let us help you." blasted through the last of Clint's defences.
He gave up his struggles to escape, instead wrapping his arms around Steve's neck muttering, "my hero!" sleepily but with a shadow of his usual wry grin.
Inside the bedroom Tony's lavish decorating was once more obvious. The narrow bunk that the rank and file agents got by on had been replaced with a three-quarter bed in the Avengers rooms. Tony had replaced that with a reasonable sized double. It was probably stll smaller than he would have preferred but anything larger would have left absolutely no floor space in the small room.
Tony pulled back the neat covers on the bed, moving aside so that Steve could bring Clint over. "You can stay here tonight, I'll stay in the spare room, as much as you've had to drink I wouldn't trust you to find the door, let alone get all the way back to your own quarters." The words were light-hearted but Tony knew instantly he'd said something wrong, and then it hit him, trust, he'd said he wouldn't trust Clint. He hadn't meant it in a disparaging way but trust was a big issue for Clint right now and it was no wonder his words had struck a nerve. Silently he cursed the alcohol, it had been intended to loosen Clint's tongue, unfortunately it had loosened his own too.
Clint was pushing back the covers now, trying to extricate himself from the bed as Steve tried to keep him there without hurting him. "I'm sorry, I should never have stayed, of course you can't trust me, who could." Clint was getting quite frantic now and Steve shot a glance over his shoulder as he crouched by the bed begging Tony to make this right.
"We trust you, of course we trust you, I just meant that you've had a lot to drink, we all have and it would be a wonder if you could even see straight at the moment." Tony tried to calm Clint, not bull-shitting, the sharp-shooter would see through that in an instant, but trying to explain, hoping Clint would forgive him.
It seemed his words had got through, Clint stopped trying to push back the covers and just lay there, looking at them from wounded eyes. "You don't trust me though, ever since we got back to the ship someone has always been there, watching me, keeping an eye on me, scarcely letting me be alone for a single moment."
That confused Tony, he knew that Fury would have been keeping an eye on Clint, on all the returned agents who had been under Loki's control, but he would have expect Fury to be more covert than this. Was Clint imagining it, he was a super spy, paranoia kind of came with the territory, then he noticed Steve's reaction.
"It wasn't like that," Steve's voice was broken as he seemed to grope for the words to express what he wanted to say, "I trust you with my life, with the life of any member of the team except..." he paused and looked up from his examination of the carpet to meet Clint's eyes squarely. "I wasn't sure if I could trust you with your own."
After this confession Steve waited, he wanted to up and run from the room, to get away from Clint's searching gaze but he didn't, that would be the coward's way out and that was one thing he had never been.
Finally Clint seemed satisfied, he closed his eye and nestled down in the bed with a murmured, "Okay." Satisfied Tony stepped to the door, holding it for Steve to leave, but as the super soldier stood from his crouched position by the bed Clint spoke once more, "Stay with me, please?"
Tony wasn't even sure if the sharp-shooter was awake and he saw Steve hesitate before reaching the same conclusion and moving towards the door. Without really thinking about what he was doing Tony shifted his position so that instead of holding the door for Steve to pass through he was now blocking the way. "Stay with him," he urged, "he needs you."
Steve looked over Tony's shoulder, towards the door to the corridor and back to his own rooms, for a moment Tony expected to be pushed aside, but then Steve gave a small nod and moved around to the other side of the bed. All three men had shed their shoes earlier in the evening, relaxed by the alcohol they had consumed, so it was easy for him to simply flick back the cover on this side and slide in beside the sleeping marksman.
Tony closed the door, hiding a small, knowing smile until he was sure it wouldn't be detected. As the door clicked shut he concluded, "and I think you need him too!"
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Brothers in Arms