Disclaimer: The Avengers characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.

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Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right

The sun was shining and there were nothing but blue skies as far as the eye could see. A gentle breeze offered a pleasant counter point to the growing heat of the day; all in all it was a nice day to have nothing to do. The boredom was a welcomed change from the insanity that had transpired over the last few weeks.

Clint ran over the events of his latest fiasco in his head often. The other Avengers had tried their best to reassure him that he wasn't responsible but that tune was becoming all too familiar these days. He had to laugh at the idea that his life was simple before the whole Loki incident had set off a snowball effect for the universe to focus a complete shit storm on the archer, because he never thought that working as an assassin for SHIELD was easy. However, compared to the last nine months, he realised now it'd been a cake walk.

If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he'd been nowhere near conquering his demons when the bank heist went down. That incident wasn't that traumatic by his standards, he could have lived without the injuries though; it was the parting gift from that little snafu that set off his latest round of self-loathing and doubt.

The experimental serum Keres had caused him to attack Natasha and take Tony hostage. He'd followed up those stellar actions by picking a fight with the Hulk, and trying to beat Rogers to a pulp in a desperate bid to get the Captain to put him out of his misery.

He remembered how clear everything was while he was infected despite all the voices in his head that screamed for his attention; but as the days went on the driving force behind his actions began to fade, until he was no longer certain why he had let it get the best of him in the first place. He was still leery around the team; not because he didn't trust them, rather that he didn't trust himself.

Having to see his handy work in the mirror every morning didn't help his mental state either; the bruises and stiffness served as reminders of the position he had put his teammates in. Then there was Rogers; the man felt incredibly guilty over how he'd handled Clint, he went to great lengths to push the whole team binding and better comradery thing so much that it only helped to amplify Barton's guilt. It was a vicious cycle that Hawkeye didn't see an end to any time soon.

Leaning against the car door Barton tapped his heal against the curb; he smiled slightly as he acknowledged that Stark did have nice taste in cars. Steve had mentioned needing to run a few errands and Tony had offered to let him borrow one of his prized vehicles; after several moments of debating, Stark managed to convince Steve to take the convertible and threw him the keys. It would have been fine except Tony's parting words were 'just don't press the button that launches the missiles.'

Clint had almost choked on his cereal when he saw Rogers' reaction. Despite Barton's best efforts to convince Steve that Tony was just being Tony, and there was no button that launched any missiles, he realized that he might as well give up and just offer to drive the Captain himself; a little fresh air might help clear his mind anyway.

The mental image of Steve sitting ram rod straight with his hands in his lap during the whole drive in an effort to not accidently hit a button, brought a smile to Clint's face. Hawkeye had been waiting by the car for the last twenty minutes watching the people pass by. Every once in a while he would unfold his arms and drop his hand onto the passenger's seat to reassure himself that his bow was nearby; having it across his back would draw to much attention, but he didn't want a repeat of the bank situation. Likewise Steve had even brought his shield with him and left it on the backseat.

He mentally urged Steve to hurry up whatever it was he was doing. His sixth sense was telling him something wasn't right here; at least he hoped it was his instincts and not the start of another round of crazy. The car down the street had been waiting there a little too long and the hotdog vender on the corner kept glancing in Clint's direction too frequently for his liking. Instinct not paranoia he tried to reassure himself.

He dropped his hand down again and gripped his bow. He could see Rogers coming down the stairs through the glass doors of the building. Barton picked up his bow and an arrow in one hand and pulled the car keys out of his pocket with the other. He walked around the car to the driver's side and waited for a reason to snap his bow open.

Rogers had just opened the door to the street when a cry came from the alley. "Help, I can't find my mom!" The voice was tiny but it grabbed Steve's attention. He glanced quickly at Barton then took off down the alley to find the little girl in trouble.

"Shit!" cursed Clint as he watched Steve change direction away from the car. He snapped open his bow, grabbed his quiver and followed Captain America. The words 'it's a trap' circled through his head as he ran to catch up to Steve. He rounded the corner to see Steve bending over to pick up a frightened little girl and a man dressed in black coming up the other end of the alley with his gun drawn.

"Get down Cap!" yelled Clint as he lined up his shot. Rogers covered the little girl as the arrow tore through the air, embedding itself in the man who crumpled to the ground. Movement to his left caught Barton's eye and he turned to block the blow from the hotdog vendor. Someone on the roof opened fire pinning Roger's and the little girl in the alleyway. Clint elbowed the vendor in the chest and slammed his foot into the man's knee. The guy went down giving Hawkeye the second he needed to take out the man on the roof.

As soon as the arrow left his hand Barton's world exploded in pain. His muscles spasmed and his bow fell from his hand. The vendor released the trigger on his taser and Clint fell breathlessly to his knees.

Steve looked down the alley towards Clint when the gunman on the roof fell to the pavement with Hawkeye's arrow in his chest. He looked on in horror as the man pressed his taser to Clint's back and his friend crumpled to the ground. Placing the little girl safely behind a dumpster to keep her out of the line of fire, Rogers moved to help his team mate but came up short as a second man opened fire from the roof. The Captain threw himself against the wall but with his shield still sitting on the backseat of the car all he could do was look on helplessly as a second man pulled out a syringe and jabbed it into Barton's neck.

A car came to a screeching halt and the door flew open. Clint tried to fight off his attackers but his struggles became weaker and weaker until everything faded to black. The two men dumped Barton in the car and climbed in. The rain of bullets ceased as the enemy pulled out and Steve watched the car speed off down the street carrying his friend to parts unknown.