Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.

Clint Barton knew he was in trouble the minute he opened his eyes. For one, he knew he probably shouldn't have had his eyes closed in the first place, since the last thing he could remember was fighting on top of a building in New York. For another, the whole right side of his body felt like one gigantic, throbbing bruise.

He tried to keep still and listen to his surroundings, not ready to betray that he was awake to anything or anyone who might be an enemy. His caution did not let him down, for he could hear voices talking above him.

"How long has he been down there?"

"Nearly three hours – hasn't yet lost any of his anger. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's just become more agitated."

"Excellent, because Mr. Sharpshooter here is awake." The remark was punctuated by a swift kick to Clint's side.

The archer groaned and rolled onto his good side, flicking his eyes upwards to glare at the offender. Two men stared down at him, expressions dark with grim amusement. "Good afternoon, Agent Barton."

"Schaefer, Elledge, what are you doing?" He wheezed as he attempted to sit up and discovered that his arms were bound tightly behind his back.

Schaefer responded by kicking him again. "You're the one who is always so good at calculation, why don't you tell me your assessment of the situation?"

Clint swept his eyes over them one more time, then spared a glance for the rest of the room. It was a bare, white room – nothing of much interest except a door and some tinted one-way windows that looked out onto some other room that he couldn't see from his position on the floor. Just beyond the tinted windows, he heard a dim roaring. "You're angry – justifiably so – that I killed your men while under Loki's control and now you are seeking some sort of revenge. I doubt an apology would suffice, but I might as well try. I am sorry; you know I would never willingly put other agents in harm's way."

Elledge frowned and crouched down so that he could look Clint in the face. "No we don't, Agent, and that's the problem. You're a live wire, you always have been. We never know what you're going to do next. We're all just waiting for the day you're going to snap…when it all becomes too much."

"I'm not going to go rogue on you guys. I can take more than you think," Clint swallowed. They were hitting him where he was weak, picking at the doubts that he tried to conceal so carefully. But in all honesty, he wasn't sure if he could handle everything that was thrown at him.

Schaefer saw the doubt on his face and laughed. "Yeah, you say that, but we know that all it would take would be for someone to go up and snap Natasha's neck and you'd be obliterating everyone who got in your way just to get revenge."

He kept his face completely neutral and tried to force a smile. "You'd have a heck of time snapping her neck, but you're welcome to try."

"You're missing the point, Barton. The point is not killing Natasha or getting revenge or anything like that. The point is you are too unstable to keep around and we're cutting you loose." Elledge began punching in numbers on a small screen just under the tinted windows.

Clint's eyes narrowed as the roaring from before grew louder. "Then what is Banner doing here? If you want to get rid of me, then get rid of me. There's no need to bring other Avengers into this business."

"Because we want you to see what it feels like to be killed by your own teammate."

The archer was on his feet in less than two seconds, hands free, and wrapped around Elledge's neck before either man had time to move. "First of all, I think you're idiotic to think that you can actually contain the Hulk. Second, if you've got an issue with me, take it up with me. Don't give Banner a guilt trip on my behalf otherwise you might be dealing with the "Other Guy" in a way you won't appreciate. Third, let Banner go now or I'll snap Elledge's neck."

Schaefer smiled again.

Clint began to hate that smile.

"Don't think that we're ill-prepared. In fact, I'm surprised it took you as long as it did to act once your hands were untied."

That's when Clint felt the tiny prick of a needle that Elledge plunged into his thigh. The agent broke his chokehold the next instant as the archer stumbled. His vision swam, the edges fogging up. His muscles felt unusually weak. Before he could gather his wits, both agents had their hands on him and they shoved him through a door.

He fell.

The ground was at least ten stories below him and as the air rushed by, he found it increasingly difficult to get his bearings. Instinctively, he curled up into a tight ball so that he wouldn't break his legs upon impact.

He hit the ground hard and rolled, making it up to his feet in twice the time it should have taken him. Whatever drug they had given him was just enough to clog his senses, but not enough to knock him out.

Hulk roared somewhere close by, but not close enough for him to be concerned about him yet. He took in the rest of his surroundings at a much slower pace than he was used to.

The room was absolutely clogged with debris – probably the remains of some sort of obstacle course or something. He could see the resemblance to one of the courses that they used to train on at SHIELD. It took little imagination to see that the Hulk had been wrecking some serious damage in this room and if he didn't want to end up just like the columns in front of him, he'd better get moving fast.

He jogged slowly over to one of the crumbled piles of concrete that provided a suitable shelter for him to hide behind. The ground tilted uncomfortably beneath his usually sure-footed stride, but he brushed it aside and crouched down behind the debris.

Sweat trailed down his neck and pooled at the bottom of his throat. His hands trembled where he put them on the concrete. What did they give me?

He hated drugs – particularly when he had no idea what was in them. He preferred to be in pain and completely in control of his senses than to be comfortable and clouded. A hazy, half-sleepiness enveloped his head and he blinked once to clear it.

Hulk roared in his face.

The archer barely had time to dive to the side as the Hulk slammed a huge fist into the concrete he'd been crouched near. He ran, springing lightly up another pile of rubble and jumping off as it too was swept angrily to the side.

The Hulk had levels of rage. The lower levels where he'd barely transformed into the green-colored rock-em-sock-em monster were the levels where he safely recognized his teammates as "friendlies." But judging by the swirl of madness in those green eyes right now, he'd past that threshold long ago. There was no reasoning with the outrage that threw concrete slabs at him.

Clint yelped as a small chunk clipped his shoulder and spun him around. For a moment, he and the Hulk gazed at each other and then the archer ducked, rolling underneath the monster as a huge fist planted itself where his head had been.

Forget not trying to reason with him. He couldn't let Banner kill him – the mild-mannered doctor would never recover from it. As he ran around another group of smashed columns, he called over his shoulder, "Hulk! It's me, Hawkeye! Remember, the arrow guy? Oof!"

Clint slammed against one of the walls, a huge green hand pinning his arms to his side. Banner's distorted face snarled right in front of him and he felt the fingers tighten around his waist. "Hulk, it's me! Legolas!"

He threw Stark's nickname out there on a whim. It was hard to breathe, his ribs started to rub against each other uncomfortably.

Hulk snorted, a sudden glimmer of familiarity in his eyes. "Leg…less…."

The archer huffed – the closest he could get to a laugh right now. "Well, yes, I will be if you don't let me go."

The monster looked confused for a moment, but the fingers loosened just enough for Hawkeye to slip through and drop to the ground. "There, good! No harm done, now let's just –"

A screech came over the PA system located in all SHIELD training centers. "Not so fast, Agent Barton."

His eyes widened as he heard the faint hiss of a rocket being launched. The Hulk grunted as Clint dodged around him and started running as fast as his drugged body could manage. It takes a split second for him to realize that the rocket was not launched at him, but the roar that his friend gives the next moment makes him cringe.

They're keeping the Hulk enraged – so angry he can't even see straight anymore, deaf to all pleas of friendship.

The ground shook beneath his feet as the rage monster ran after him. Clint rolled to the side and felt a breeze sweep over him as he narrowly missed getting hit. He ran back the way he had come, hoping he was fast enough to at least make Hulk scratch his head over where he had gone.

I gotta calm him down. How do you calm a beast down? He flashed through ways that Natasha helped him get his anger under control – somehow he didn't think landing a few well-placed punches on the guy would work.

A sudden spark of memory flashed in his mind as he ducked to avoid getting his head taken off by a flying piece of concrete. One of his foster moms used to sing to him when he was afraid or so bitterly angry that no one dared to come near him.

Clint could sing fairly decently. He wasn't sure if it would work, but right now, he'd try anything. So he started singing the first song that came to mind – the one his foster mom used to sing to him. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when –" he rolled to the side as a fist slammed down on the ground, " – skies are grey! You'll never know de –" He sprung up onto a mound of debris and jumped to the next as the Hulk slammed into the pile. " – dear, how much I love you! Oh please don't –" He leapt to the ground and rolled, wincing as the ground brushed against the shoulder wound he'd received when he got clipped by concrete earlier, " – take my sunshine away!"

The Hulk leapt over him, faced him, and pounded both fists into the ground, roaring, "Again!"

Clint skidded to a halt, wondering if he'd heard wrong.

The green face snarled at him. "Again!"

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey." Clint fought hard not to smile when the Hulk's lips twisted into a pleased grin. The next instant he was thrown off his feet as a rocket hit his friend.

The rage surged again and the archer was pinned to the floor. Wild eyes and huge teeth filled his vision. "You'll never know, dear. How much I love you! Oh please don't take my sunshine away."

The Hulk snorted.

"That's right, just listen to me. Ignore –"

"Again!"

"Okay. You are –" Another rocket hit the area around him and he choked as dust from the concrete filled his lungs. He wondered how many times he'd have to sing this song until the others came. They were sure to come, weren't they? Because if his survival depended on his voice, then he was going to be hosed pretty quickly.

Hulk picked him up and shook him. "Again!"

" – my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are –" A particularly vicious explosion landed near Hulk's arms and Clint found himself sailing through the air. His head hit the wall with concussive force. He landed in a heap on the ground and felt pain surge through his arm.

Everything was ringing. The Hulk roared. Something prodded him, but he couldn't even see straight, let alone make out what happened.

"Again! Again! Sunshine!"

"You'll never…know…" he muttered as his vision began to leave him. "…love…you…take…away…"

The Hulk screamed and he thought he could hear him tearing things up, but he appeared to be leaving the fallen archer alone. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard Schaefer and Elledge yelling, but he lost his tenuous hold on consciousness after that.

The Avengers finally made it to the abandoned training facility after nearly five hours passed since Bruce and Clint's disappearance. A confusion over which building the rogue agents might be using complicated a rather easy search and Tony told Fury in no uncertain terms that he'd better "destroy the abandoned facilities before I light them up like the Fourth of July. Seriously, what idiot keeps abandoned training centers intact?"

Fury never did offer them an explanation.

Fortunately, there weren't many agents to take care of and in record time, all of them were down in the arena, edging carefully over to the Hulk.

The green monster was smashing things left and right, screaming, "Sunshine! Sunshine!"

"Hulk?" Captain America, bless his heart, was the first one brave enough to approach the enraged creature. Fortunately for him, he was one of the few people that Hulk listened to. "We're here now. You're safe."

Banner's face turned to him and snorted. Then he stomped over to something in the corner, picked it up, and walked back over. The team let out a collective gasp as Clint's battered form was dropped in front of them. "Sunshine broke."

Steve wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

It took a couple of weeks for Clint to get over his injuries and get back into the field. He didn't let out a peep about how he managed to get the Hulk from completely smashing him to bits.

Banner himself didn't have any recollection of the matter – other than someone sneaking up on him in the lab and knocking him out. When he woke up in the arena, the "Other Guy" took over almost immediately.

The Avengers had a couple of skirmishes and situations pop up while Clint was out of commission. Every time the Hulk appeared, he'd glance around their company and snarl disapprovingly, "Sunshine, sunshine."

"When did the Hulk become such a fan of the sun?" Tony asked.

No one had an answer.

But when Hawkeye rejoined the team a few days later, the Hulk beamed and gave the archer a little flick on the shoulder. "Sunshine!"

Clint smiled.