Title: Infiltrator

Author: Nagi Kokuyo

Fandom: Avengers (Movieverse) & Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Will/Benji, one-sided Clint/Benji, past Clint/Natasha, mention of Clint/Bobbi (Mockingbird)

Warnings: Cursing, explosions

Disclaimer: If I owned the Avengers or MI, I would be a very rich woman indeed. Alas, I am not, so then logically, I do not. All credit goes to Marvel and whoever the hell owns the Mission Impossible series.

Summary: He wished it didn't have to end this way. He'd enjoyed his time with the IMF. He'd let the mission become personal, and it was just going to hurt more to leave. Maybe when this was all over, he could come back and tell them the truth. He was looking forward to rejoining SHIELD, but this was not how he'd wanted it to happen. He hadn't wanted hurt anyone.

~ MI4 & A ~

"Whatever happens today, it's not your fault. It's a necessary evil. You'll understand that later, and I hope you can forgive me for what I've put you through, and what I am about to do.

Will wished it didn't have to end this way, truly, he did. He'd enjoyed his time with Ethan Hunt's team, more than he should have. He'd let the mission become personal, and it was just going to hurt more to leave. He hoped they didn't blame themselves for this. That would the worst.

Don't you dare blame yourselves. You have nothing to be guilty about: I do. You have no idea of the things I've done in my past, and I'm glad for that. If you knew, you would never trust me again, and you'd be completely in the right. I can't be trusted, because that's who I am. A spy. A traitor. I am a soldier following orders, and I know you understand that. I have done horrible things under orders before this; this isn't even a drop in the bucket.

It was a simple act to link up the explosive devices that Benji had disabled and setting the timer. He checked the security cameras; the others were almost out. There was a sixty second delay between when he armed the bombs and when they went off, long enough for his teammates to get to safety and long enough for him to send them the message he'd written in advance. It wasn't much, and it sure as hell wouldn't be enough; it would have to be, because it was all they were getting. Maybe when this was all over, he could come back and tell them the truth; the whole truth.

The world is changing. Aliens, superheroes, mutants—at this point, I wonder every day if anything can surprise me anymore. Every day, I'm proved wrong, and I'm glad. This is my fault, and I deserve everything that's coming to me. I know that. This is nothing I was ever trained for, but I have responsibilities that extend far beyond and above the IMF, and it's time I dealt with them.

His arm throbbed where he'd dug out the new tracker. It was an experimental new thing that the IMF was testing on Ethan's team. It showed an operative's location down to the square yard, and broadcasted their vitals to the system: heart rate, blood pressure, etc. He hadn't healed from the implant yet, so he'd just cut the stitches and used his knife to dig it out, and then he crushed it under the heel of his boot and dropped the remnants of the tracker onto one of the bombs. As far as the monitors back at IMF headquarters were concerned, his vitals had just flat-lined, and it would be completely destroyed in the explosion.

As soon as the countdown reached zero, he would be a ghost, deceased to the government and killed in action to the IMF. His time with Ethan and the IMF was almost at its end; it was time for Clint Barton to return to SHIELD, and for that to happen, William Brandt had to die.

There was an idea, once upon a time, to bring together a group of remarkable people, so when we needed them, they could fight the battles that we never could. The idea was eventually scrapped, because the people in question were volatile, dangerous, and unpredictable; they couldn't follow orders and they were not soldiers. Most of them, at least. Put those people together and you couldn't possibly expect what would happen.

And then the aliens invaded Manhattan, and we saw those people come together and save our planet and her people. A year later, the world is still a changing place, and we all have our parts to play. This is mine.

He'd received the termination notice the day before they were sent on the op. SHIELD needed the Hawk back. Clint—Will—also suspected that Fury was aiming to recruit Ethan and the team to SHIELD. He'd been waiting to steal them away for years, long before Will was implanted in the system, and Fury always liked to kill two birds with one stone. Clint suspected Will's death was that stone.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

I lied to you from the start, and for that, I'm so sorry. It started as an assignment, words on a piece of paper that shaped the very essence of who I was supposed to be, but it's turned into so much more than that. I hope that, if you can't accept this, you can certainly understand it.

Sometimes people get hurt for the things they believe; sometimes, people die. Everyone marches to the beat of a certain drummer, and I've been given my orders. I intend to follow them, because I believe.

"Move your ass, Clint, you're running out of time," Black Widow barked in his ear. He grinned. Ah, Nat, he'd missed her. She was waiting with the Quinjet a block away, and getting testy, apparently.

He was looking forward to rejoining the Avengers. It had been over a year since he'd really been back; quick two-day trips every three months did not a visit make. He missed telling dirty jokes with Natasha in Russian so the others couldn't understand; he missed pulling pranks with Tony, hanging out with Bruce, and sparring with Steve. Hell, he even missed harassing Coulson. The Agent-K of SHIELD would spar with him if he asked nicely, and he always had a stack of available missions and a cookie waiting for Clint.

Now, if only he could get past the huge stone in the pit of his stomach that yelled at him, Are you a fucking idiot?! Don't you know how much this is going to hurt Ethan, Benji, and Jane?! Especially Benji; can you do this to him?

Maybe one day, you'll forgive me for this. I can't tell you everything you want to know, but I can tell you this.

Oh, he knew, and he felt terrible about it. They were his friends, and he'd even started to consider them family. He'd hoped that one day he could tell them the truth and not feel like he was shooting them all in the back. He also hoped that they could find it in their hearts to forgive him this betrayal once they found out the truth. When they found out that their friend was a spy spying on other spies (specifically: them), and that he'd faked his death in order to return to his real team…he didn't even want to think of how'd they react. Certainly they'd be pissed, and hurt; probably disappointed, too.

He kicked open the service exit and into the alley, swinging nimbly up the fire escape of the neighboring building. He perched on the edge and watched his friends dash across the street.

My name is not William Brandt and I am not IMF.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, counting down the time left until the world was consumed by fire and heat, the building gutted by the blast the C4 would cause.

Three

Two

He opened his eyes and smiled.

Good-bye, and thank you for everything.

-C.B.

One

And on that night, while his teammates watched in horror and the message arrived on the server, William Brandt died in the destruction of Building 19 and Clint Barton slipped away into the night over the rooftops.

~ MI4 & A ~

So here's the first chapter of my MI/Avengers crossover! Review!