Title: Divide
Author: SLynn
Rating: T (language)
Fandom: Avengers (movieverse)
Characters: Clint, Natasha, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Maria, Jane, Fury

Spoilers: Takes place after the movie. Follow-up to Legacy. #8 in Recruitment series.

Notes: This is the 8th part of a multi-part series and I am so sorry it's taken me forever to start posting again. I've been working on this forever and, as my beta Tripp3235 can attest, changing this dang thing a thousand different ways. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm at the point now where I feel I will be finished soon so the more I write, the more I'll post. On a side note, I have not seen Iron Man 3 yet and that makes me very sad. Next weekend, I swear it! Enjoy.

Summary: It was only a matter of time before someone tried to test their defenses; before the past came calling.

"Are we almost done here?" Clint asked, but Tony noted he wasn't scowling, so he couldn't be bored yet.

"Why? Got a date?" Tony asked, not-so-subtly looking over his shoulder at Natasha who was on the observation deck of the weapons range.

"Do not start," Clint returned, and with it returned the frown Tony had grown used to seeing on the other man's face over the past few weeks.

Actually, it wasn't so much a frown as a blank stare. Since coming back to New York, Clint had moved almost manically from one task to the next, emoting as little as possible in what Tony recognized as a never-ending quest to stay busy.

Busy was fine, in fact Tony loved being busy, but Clint didn't seem to get any enjoyment out of his work, his training, his... well, his anything anymore. It was exactly why Tony had switched gears and gotten back to upgrading and redesigning Barton's equipment. He figured that might at least entertain him for an afternoon, or something.

Mostly, it had worked.

"I wasn't starting," Tony offered. "I was observing. I'm allowed to observe."

"There's nothing to see," Clint answered, swapping out glasses before scanning the range. "What the hell are these supposed to do?"

"Night vision," Tony answered.

"Nice," Clint returned, handing them back, with an almost-smile.

"Thought you'd like those. And they'd be useful. Your other pair were crap."

"They did the job," Clint returned, but it was half-hearted at best. They had been crap and it was the one thing, well one of the things, he'd regularly complained about. He was positive that whatever Tony had come up with would be a huge improvement on what he already owned.

"Try these. They are my favorite."

"Whoa," Clint said as he slid them on, his voice awed as he looked around the room.

"Right," Tony said, nodding his head in agreement and altogether very pleased with himself. "They have a heads-up display with targeting and tracking, plus a facial recognition program that will ID potential friendlies or threats."

"Is this what the inside of your suit looks like?" Clint asked, more than a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information being displayed before his eyes, as he continuously scanned the room.

"No, the suit has more. These don't have enough power to run that many programs and they aren't hooked up to the main system."

"This is..."

"Great, right?"

"Too much," Clint countered.

"How can that even be a thing?"

"Because, I can't... I can't concentrate," Clint said as he still looked around the room, feeling lost in it because of the constant changes taking place on the lens. "I can't focus on anything. How do you look at all this and not get sick? It's distracting."

"Well, there's gratitude," Tony huffed. "Give them here."

Clint laughed and happily handed them back. True, he'd been more than a little excited to see what Tony would come up with ever since the miniature bow had arrived in the mail back in LA, but this was too much. He'd expected some modifications, and the night vision glasses were probably going to end up being amazing, but otherwise Tony could keep all his programs and gadgets and swirling mass of streaming information for himself. Clint didn't want them.

"Give me the bow, too."

"You're serious?" Clint asked as Tony put the glasses on for himself and held out his hand. "Okay then," he said, handing it to him reluctantly and taking a big step back.

"JARVIS," Tony called out, "set up something more challenging, will you?"

"At once, sir," the AI responded, and the range reconfigured itself with multiple targets and obstacles almost immediately.

"Thank you," Tony said, taking one of the experimental arrows from the quiver and scanning the range. "Mark it."

"Who are you talking to now?" Clint asked, because he really wasn't sure.

"It's voice activated," Tony replied, not at all clearing things up for Clint. "I'm going to hit the one in the center."

"Sure you are, Tony."

"The arrow has a propulsion system built in," Tony stopped to explain, mostly because he loved explaining things. Especially things he made. "They're connected to the display which allows the user, me in this case, to find a target, mark it and the tracking system guides it in. Simple."

"Or, you know... I could just aim for it. That's simple too."

"I like my way."

"That is the rumor," Clint returned, earning a smile from Tony.

"Here it goes," Tony said, holding the bow and attempting to draw the string.

"Problem?" Clint asked after a few minutes of watching Tony struggle, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"This... this is not right. This is malfunctioning or... Is it broken? No, wait. It can't be broken. I made it."

"Let me see," Clint said, taking the bow out of Tony's hands, drawing the string and letting it snap before shrugging and giving it back to him again. He hadn't said anything, but the first thing Clint had done to the bow was to adjust the tension. "Nope. Works fine."

"All right, smartass," Tony said, giving him the bow back. "It's already locked in. You try."

"Do I have to wear the glasses?"

"No."

"All right," Clint said as Tony handed him the arrow.

On the observation deck Natasha really wasn't watching them, she was actually going over the latest intel report SHIELD had sent regarding her next mission. It wouldn't take her long, judging from the report, and Natasha wasn't even sure she was needed, but she was going to take it. She'd decided that the moment they'd asked and had already dyed her hair platinum in anticipation of the extensions she'd soon be getting to complete her new look.

It was a strange time.

Clint and Natasha had successfully avoided one another and after her talk with Tony things in the Tower no longer felt tense. Maybe they'd never been tense, and it had been all in her head, but knowing how Tony and the rest of the Avengers felt had set Natasha at ease. They wanted her here and Clint wouldn't fight against it.

It was exactly what she wanted but it didn't make her happy; she hadn't done it to make herself happy. She'd done it so that Clint could be happy, one day.

Clint deserved to be happy, which was why he belonged here.

Natasha didn't know what she deserved, but she imagined she'd get whatever that was eventually.

"Hey."

"Hill," Natasha returned, not bothering to look up from her file. She'd spotted her on the way in and knew, eventually, the other woman would make her way over.

"I have to ask -"

"No, you don't," Natasha interrupted, still not looking up at Hill.

"I actually do," Hill countered, but to her credit she didn't sound as if she was enjoying any of this. "Is Barton going to take another mission any time soon? Or at all?"

"He's right over there," Natasha said, setting down the notebook and meeting Maria's eyes with her own. "Ask him."

"I was told to ask you."

"I have nothing to say."

"Because there's nothing to tell or because he's not speaking to you, either?" Natasha shut the cover of her notebook and met Maria's eyes with a cold glare. "Listen," Maria continued after a pause as she slid into the chair beside Natasha's, "after what happened I don't blame him for being... reluctant to go out, but it doesn't look good. This whole shutting down thing he's doing, that doesn't look good either."

"I didn't realize you were so concerned with appearances," Natasha said smoothly.

"Appearance is everything, and you know it."

"I know that Clint was tortured at another agent's behest and so far... nothing?"

"Agent Campbell was removed from his post."

"How devastating for him," Natasha said dryly.

Maria narrowed her eyes at the other woman but bit back her initial reply. "Did Barton tell you what happened?" she asked instead.

"He didn't have to."

"Did he tell you that he didn't want a complaint filed?" Natasha's eyebrows shot up in surprise but she didn't answer her. She didn't have to. Her reaction was all the answer Maria needed.

"No one wants to look weak," Natasha said quietly, at first. "He files a complaint and it's a sign he can't handle it or himself."

"Well, that's one way to look at it," Maria returned, getting back to her feet.

"And the other?"

"That he's guilty. And if he files a complaint, well, it will have to be looked into. Investigated. He doesn't file one and it just goes away."

"You think what they did to him is just going to go away?"

"No," Maria answered, quite sincerely.

"So you're telling me this..."

"Because someone needs to get it through his thick head and that usually falls on you."

"Not anymore."

"Well," Maria sighed, glancing over her shoulder at Clint and Tony on the range, "that is a shame."

"Is Fury concerned?" Natasha asked after a pause.

"Not about Barton," Maria answered. "Not like that. But... something's going on," she finished vaguely. "We all need to stay on our toes."

"I never stopped."

"Good," Maria sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get any more information out of her. "Any idea where I can find Banner?"

"The lab."

"Nice talking with you, Romanoff."

Natasha gave her a less than pleasant smile in return and waited until Hill was gone before turning her eyes back to Clint and Tony. The two of them were seemingly unaware of what had transpired and actually looked like they were having fun. Together they'd destroyed most of the targets on the range and were laughing even, which made her smile.

It was a nice change for him, even if it left her feeling less than... just less.

Suddenly needing to be anywhere else, Natasha grabbed her notebook and was heading towards the exit when instinct made her stop. It was a sound, a pause, a sudden shift in the atmosphere around her that she'd registered, that Natasha had trained for, that made her do it. She stopped on the stairs and turned just in time to see it happen.

Clint had fired an arrow, one of Tony's she had no doubt, but instead of hitting the target, it traversed the length of the range and then swung back at them like a boomerang.

Clint saw it first, grabbing Tony by the elbow and hauling him back several feet with him, but it wasn't far enough. Natasha watched in muted horror as Clint shoved Tony to the floor and took the hit himself. He'd staggered backwards a few more steps before finally half-sitting, half-falling to the ground.

Willing herself not to run, Natasha walked swiftly to where they were. If she ran, she would panic, and she wasn't about to panic. Natasha didn't do panic.

"Holy shit," Tony exclaimed, having already gotten back on his feet as he made it to Clint's side. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ask Bruce to standby in the infirmary and send a high-level call for assistance on the range."

"At once, sir."

Clint was sitting up, partially assisted by Tony, but was awake and his color looked good. The arrow had hit him high on the right side of his chest, near his shoulder. With a glance Natasha guessed he'd at least broken his collar bone. She also figured he was in a partial state of shock, just given the look in his eyes.

"Showing off again?" she asked as she knelt on his left side.

"You know me," Clint returned, but already his voice was starting to sound breathy.

"Let me just go on record as saying that was not supposed to happen," Tony interjected.

"Well, don't be offended if... if next time you ask me to try some stuff out I wear my body armor," Clint replied, earning a laugh from the other man.

"Can you move your arm?" Natasha asked, quickly becoming all business.

"A little," Clint answered, flexing it enough to satisfy her, but still wincing from the effort.

"What about your hand? Your fingers?"

Clint rotated his right wrist from side-to-side before wiggling his fingers without any problems.

"Any pain?" she asked, which made Clint and Tony both roll their eyes in near unison.

"No, none at all," he snapped back at her. "This actually feels really good and... yeah, I'm going to keep it. It's a good look, right?"

"Don't be a smartass."

"It's the only kind of ass I know how to be," Clint returned and despite the circumstances, it felt normal between them.

"Well, that's not true, but you are good at it," Natasha admitted before becoming serious again. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah, just... give me a minute."

Natasha and Tony got to their feet before helping Clint up. Natasha took his good left arm and pulled him to his feet as Tony helped to keep him steady. As he stood, Steve arrived.

"What happened?" he called as he dashed across the room.

"Tony tried to kill me," Clint answered, rather enjoying the shocked look on Steve's face. To his credit, Steve only looked shocked for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to amuse both Clint and Tony temporarily.

"No fair," Tony fired back at him, "you shot yourself."

"Steve," Natasha said, ignoring them both, "can you help Clint to the infirmary?"

"Of course," Steve answered, taking Natasha's spot at Clint's side and guiding him towards the door.

Natasha heard Clint grumble something about being able to walk by himself, but otherwise he went without much complaint. Tony had started to follow, but Natasha reached out and tugged at his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

"It might have malfunctioned," Tony said as soon as Steve and Clint were gone, turning first to Natasha and then going quickly to the quiver that had been left behind, but he didn't sound convinced.

"What were you aiming at?" Natasha asked, giving the room another quick scan before giving Tony her full attention.

"Far corner," Tony answered, without looking up. "JARVIS, I'm going to want the security feeds for this section queued up on my mainframe for the past hour. Also, add the footage from outside the storage locker where this equipment was kept for the last three hours. I want all the info on everyone who entered and exited that area, authorized or not."

"Yes, sir."

"You think someone tampered with it?"

"I'm not ruling it out."

"Because you're that good," Natasha said, reaching for one of the few arrows that remained and startled when Tony slapped her hand away.

"Don't," he said quickly, his eyes having gone wide. "Don't touch that. I need... I need something to..."

Natasha shrugged off her jacket, leaving the t-shirt on beneath, and handing it to Tony, having finally seen what he had. "What is that?"

"Nothing I designed," Tony answered, holding up the arrow and taking a better look at the space just below the feathers.

Natasha bent closer and saw it for herself. "Looks like splitters or thorns," she said, remarking on the tiny yellow burrs on the notched end of the arrow that should not have been there.

Tony didn't say anything, but turned his eyes back to the rest of the arrows. He'd designed sixteen and they'd shot nine. Now at looked like at least two of them had been altered, the one that had veered off course and swung back at Barton and the one in Tony's hand. That left five to go over and hopefully find something that indicated who, and more importantly how, it had been done.

"JARVIS," Tony called, getting to his feet and picking up the quiver as he moved towards the door. "Get my diagnostic programs up and running in my office and do a head count. How many people are inside the enclave?"

"Seven, sir."

"Enclave?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised as she followed behind Tony.

"I have to call it something," Tony said defensively. "The Super-Secret Hangout didn't sound professional."