This is my first time putting something I have written out there. So thank you for giving it a shot! Just a heads-up I make Clint and Natasha speak the way that feels right to me. Translation: they cuss...a lot. Also, Clint is hearing impaired in this story, as in some of the comics. I suppose, I should also mention there is a love scene at the end. But it barely rates as such. It's really short (seriously, like three sentences) and more along the lines of, hey this is what they're going to do, other than bow-chicka-bow-bow (if you get my meaning). So I didn't think it warranted a rating upgrade, but please PM me if you strongly feel otherwise. Not beta read so all mistakes are on me. Alright, I'll shut-up now. This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading! Reviews and constructive criticism are manna.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, not a one, blast it all.

Shadows

By: GalInTheMoon

It was afternoon in Manhattan. The sunlight of late May danced through the Avengers tower, casting every surface in a promising warm glow. Barton walked from the wing within the tower mansion that held the bedrooms, toward the kitchen, with Steve following close behind.

He had just left his room after taking a shower to find Steve waiting in the hallway for him. "Can we talk?" He had asked. "Sure Cap." He walked past him, hoping they could talk and walk. He wasn't one for whispered hallway conversations, and he was hungry. They had taken down the latest monster to raise it's ugly head the night before. Worn out, most of the team had opted to crash at the tower. He had overslept, was sore, and starving. He turned around once in the kitchen and faced the taller man. "What's up?" He asked before digging through the fridge.

"Steve, Clint. Listen I,..." He stared at the agent a moment before continuing. "I know about...I know that..."

Clint interrupted, eyebrows raised, grinning, "That I drink out of the milk carton?" To prove his point he removed the jug and took a swig.

Steve shifted, frowned, "You...No. That's disgusting by the way." He shifted again. When he was too slow to continue Barton hopped up on the nearby counter and asked, "What is it then Capi?" The grin faded somewhat.

Steve frowned and looked up at him. He wanted to say, it's Steve Rogers, pick one or the other, but stop calling me Captain already. Instead, he moved on, "The S.H.I.E.L.D. files are being released by the hundreds daily."

"Yeah." Barton shrugged, it had been going on for months now. Steve watched him for a moment as the archer grabbed an apple from a nearby bowl, and juggled it in his hands. He stared back at Steve, waiting for the other man to get to the point. When still more time passed, all of thirty seconds, he raised his brows and chomped into the fruit.

"Your personal file was released this morning." Steve spit out waiting for a reaction but none came.

"Okaaay." Clint finally said around a mouthful of apple.

"Anything you want to say?"

"Nope." He slid from the counter and began to walk away, "That it?"

"Yeah. Well no..."

"You read it?" Barton asked, as he turned to face Steve again. A wicked grin spread across his lips. It was a look that oozed a challenge, a what-about-it dare.

"A little." Steve looked down, not that he was intimidated by the archer, but he felt the weight of guilt at his own impropriety.

"And?" Clint questioned, the challenge still dancing upon his features. Steve wasn't backing off though. Sure, Maybe he completely agreed with the edge he saw in Clint's eyes. He understood not wanting to be called out by a friend, a colleague at least, about personal information that was already being used as fodder for public entertainment. But he wasn't going to sweep any questions he had under the rug just because he was uncomfortable asking them, or because Barton threw some attitude his way. He would face him man to man. He would ask his questions and let Barton say his peace. He respected him enough for that. "Why didn't you say anything..."

"About what exactly?" Clint interrupted before Steve could finish, but backed off a little when he could see the other man's resolute sincerity and his lack of aggression. This whole S.H.I.E.L.D. is Hydra, better start a cleansing fire b.s., was becoming a real cluster-fuck for him.

"Your hearing." Steve finally said, shifting uncomfortably.

"My hearing?" Clint's grin widened and he seemed to genuinely relax, "I gotta say Cap out of all the things in that file I'm a little surprised that's what you're having a hard time accepting."

"It's Steve, Clint, for crying out loud. And I didn't read your file. That's all they're talking about on the morning news. It's in the paper too. I only read what they released." He paused. "I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell us something that..."

"Affects the team?" Barton presumed the rest of Steve's point. He couldn't help it. This was the first he was hearing of the media focusing on that particular piece of information. It made him bristle uncontrollably.

"That's not what I'm getting at."

"What are you getting at then? Not questioning my ability to do my job are you Cap?"

"Of course not. I'm questioning why you wouldn't be upfront about it."

Clint watched the apple as he tossed it up and down, "It doesn't change anything. Anyway, S.H.I.E.L.D. had a way with the latest tech." He tapped his left ear, with the hand holding the apple, "best aids a super secret, super intelligence organization can buy." He shifted, "Why would I say anything?"

It seemed obvious to Steve. A team needed to be clear, open, solid as a group off mission to be effective on it. Barton keeping something like this from them was, in Steve's eyes, irresponsible and dangerous. It whispered of descension if he were to take the thought to its worst possible conclusion. "Team bonding for a start but..."

"Go team go huh."

"Something like that."

Barton slapped Steve's shoulder, "No thanks." he said, as he started to walk away.

"That's what worries me Hawkeye." He rose his voice after Barton, choosing his codename since he had seemed determined to only use a form of Steve's. Clint turned, all trace of humor gone from his face, "Excuse me?"

"I am questioning if you're a team player and you're not giving me much to have faith in."

Clint walked back to him deadly serious, "I'm there when it counts."

"Are you? Because it's not all about what happens out there." He pointed over Clint's shoulder.

Clint's jaw tightened as he glared at the other man. The tension had reached a breaking point just as Natasha stepped around the corner, "Hey boys." The words rolled off her tongue. Steve turned to give her his full, respectful attention, but Clint continued to shoot daggers at the back of his head. There was more he wanted to say but held his tongue.

"Steve." She said with a slight smile as she glanced behind him at Barton, "Clint."

"Natasha." Barton said through gritted teeth as he let his gaze drop to the half eaten apple grasped in his hand. He was almost surprised he hadn't smashed it between his fingers. She grabbed a sheet of paper from one of the drawers in the table in front of her and looked for a pen. When both men continued to watch her she looked up, all innocence, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." and "Nothing." they said over-top each other. They exchanged a look before Barton sneered and walked away. Steve watched him go and when he turned Natasha had moved closer. He shook his head, "I don't get that guy sometimes."

"What's to get?" She said it without hostility but it wasn't exactly a question either. She was writing something on the paper now pressed into her palm but looked up at him, "He's good at what he does Rogers, the best."

"I'm more than aware of that." He stood up straighter, frustrated at the miscommunication.

She continued writing, "Did you read all of it?"

She didn't need to explain, he knew she meant Barton's personal file. She had heard enough to put two and two together and so had he. "Just what they put in the papers. Didn't seem right to read everything."

She nodded and handed him the paper in her hand, "Maybe read a little more." She slowly released it from her grip and walked away in the direction Clint had gone. Steve looked down at what she had handed him. There wasn't much on it, just some page numbers and the words, Shadow Whip. Steve looked in the direction the Black Widow had gone.

The conversation had not went how he wanted at all. He liked Clint, but Barton was the type to hang on the outskirts, to watch, it was part training, and part a natural tendency. And so, despite himself, Steve held onto a nagging feeling that Barton was waiting to see how this whole Avengers thing played out. It had just been a lingering concern, until he saw Clint's hearing deficit in bold, undeniable print. The revelation only served to cement his fear that the man held back too much. Shouldn't his team have known? Didn't they need complete honesty now more than ever? Why be slippery with the truth? He understood, on a personal level, not announcing things you held as private, but as a soldier, as an officer, he felt they didn't have that luxury. Everything needed to be on the table. The team should have known. He should have felt like he could trust them.

He had seen for himself the amazing things Barton was capable of. Before that he had worked for Shield, for seven years, with his hearing compromised, and they hadn't pulled him from field work. His ability was not in question. He had just wanted to address his fears man to man. Get them out in the open and give Barton a chance to show him he was wrong. That he was in it for the long haul. That he was a solid part of this team. What he had gotten was near proof of the opposite. That one day they would assemble and find Hawkeye had found other places to be. Steve hoped he was wrong.

He looked at the paper Natasha had given him again, flicking it along his fingers, before walking in the direction of the computer he loathed, and to the leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. files within it. Maybe he would find something more substantial there than fading hope.