Chapter Text
Steve Rogers learned to when there was an impossible situation and a bad one.
This was the second kind, and he wasn’t sure if that was better.
The Quinjet lay half-buried in a California hillside, smoke thinning into the late-afternoon sky. One of its wings was half shattered and laying in the dirt next to the HYDRA lair that just exploded. Steve sat with his back against the hull, shield propped beside him, helmet off, and took inventory. Count the breathing. Count the injuries. Count the enemy bodies littering the half-turned ground.
Tony was not talking. That alone said something was wrong.
The Iron Man suit was slumped a few feet away, metal scorched and warped, the arc reactor dark. No sound of humming energy. No comms chatter. Just metal, inert and heavy, like a stationary statue. Steve had already tried the obvious things, tapping the side of the helmet, calling Tony’s name futilely for an answer. JARVIS did not answer. Tony did not answer either, not beyond a faint, stubborn breath that said he was alive and deeply unhappy about it.
Nat was sitting near the rubble, stitching her own arm with the efficiency of someone who was trained to do it without a sound. Bruce hovered nearby, too quiet, hands shaking with the exertion of holding back the other guy.
Thor stood a little apart, expression thunderous, clenching Mjölnir in his fist as he paced around.
Stranded. Injured. Powerless. Steve didn’t like not knowing what to do. And it was the last nail in the coffin that all their communications devices were practically scrap metal.
California stretched out beyond the destruction, golden and indifferent, highways glinting in the far distance, so different from the barren lands and forests they were sitting on. Too far from the Tower. Too far from the Compound. Too far from anything that could help them before someone noticed the Quinjet’s wreckage and came snooping for a failed Avengers news story.
Steve pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the protest in his ribs. “Status,” he said, steady as he could make it.
That was when Clint cleared his throat.
Steve turned. Clint Barton was wringing his hands, seeming nervous. Had he been anyone else, Steve would have thought nothing of it - who wouldn’t be nervous in this situation? But Clint was an Avenger, a trained SHIELD agent, and most importantly, someone he knew. Clint simply did not get nervous, and if he did, he never showed it.
“Clint?” Steve asked, eyebrows raising.
The archer swallowed, letting his hands fall to his side. His bow, Steve noticed, was unstrung and his quiver lay in ruins by his feet.
“I can get us somewhere safe,” Clint said softly, head low. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
Nat’s head snapped up. “Clint, you can’t.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”Clint shook his head and turned away, hand coming up to cover his mouth. “No one knows. I made sure of it.”
“Alright, I get that being vague is your whole secret agent schtick, but we’re going to need a little more than that, Legolas.”
Ah. Tony woke up.
Clint hesitated, just a beat, but long enough for the rest of the group to know something was wrong. Had Clint been reassured and confident, a snappy retort would have gone back to Stark.
Sensing the change in atmosphere, Nat, Bruce, and Thor walked closer to the Quinjet’s wreckage, coming to a stop by the other three. Tony sat up, creaky, the red and gold metal of his suit glinting in the dying rays of the sun.
Steve gestured for the archer to continue.
“It’s… somewhere no one should be able to get to unless they meet certain qualifications,” Clint said. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t tell Fury. Or you. Or Nat.”
Nat’s brows furrowed, a frown forming on her lips. “What are you talking about?”
Tony pointed toward her, his helmet flipped up so they could see his incredulous expression. “Uh, yeah, what she said. I thought we were a team here, so no secrets?”
“Like you tell us everything,” Clint snarked back, then took a breath.
He met each of the Avengers’ eyes, apology flickering there, but something older and heavier rested behind that.
“I know. I really know. But I’m not even supposed to talk about this, lest I want to get struck down by the big guy up there.” At that, Thor shifted slightly.
Oblivious, Tony kept going with his own words. “Perfect, that just clears up everything. Didn’t know you were religious, but I guess now we’re learning things about each other because we have nothing else to do in this damn desert!” He kicked that Quinjet at that.
“Please don’t hurt your foot,” Bruce muttered quietly, twisting his fingers.
“Are you speaking of what I believe you are?” Thor’s deep voice rumbled. Clint nodded almost imperceptibly. “I was… not aware that you were of that side.”
Nat whipped her gaze to her spy partner. “He knows?”
Clint averted his gaze. “You’re going to have to trust me,” he repeated.
Steve looked at his teammate. Admittedly, two years wasn’t that long the knew him. But the captain liked to believe he was pretty good friends with the archer. Additionally, the other man has had more experience in the field than him. So, if the man thought he could get the Avengers somewhere safe, then he’d let him take the lead. (If Steve was also hoping to get more information on Clint, too, well, that was his business.)
“All right,” Steve said after a moment. He straightened, shoulders squaring. “Then take the lead.”
Clint exhaled, long and slow, like he had been holding his breath for years.
“Okay,” he said. “Follow me.”