65[Final Goodbyes]
"Do you mind telling me what the hell you were thinking, Agent Barton?" Agent Hall's face was taunt with anger, and his voice was barely controlled.
Clint squinted up at the other agent, shifting from one foot to the other, putting more weight on Natasha's shoulder. "What are you doing here?" He finally asked.
Hall's mouth worked, clearly not happy with Clint's question and non-answer.
"Agent Romanoff called the Captain, who had been staying at my tower." Tony's overlapped whatever Hall had been about to say.
Clint's eyes flicked over to Tony, who stood next to Steve, both suited up. "You guys are my backup?"
"Yeah." Steve said, stepping forward. "But that doesn't really matter right now. Are you okay?"
Clint shrugged one shoulder. "Me? Yeah, I'm golden."
"You're not going to be golden when I'm done with you." Hall muttered, finally realizing that his dressing down of Agent Barton wasn't going to happen yet.
Clint watched with half-lidded eyes as other SHIELD agents went into the warehouse to finish cleaning it and to grab Bullseye.
He watched with a detached sort of interest, knowing that his body was finally crashing. He had pushed it and finally it was rebelling and telling him to screw off because it needed to rest dammit.
"Clint!"
Castle came bursting through the doors; Jackson and Beckett close on his heels. Clint quickly or as quickly as his sluggish mind would allow him to, noted that Rick seemed fine, maybe a little shaken and bruised, but alive.
"We thought you were…" Castle swallowed, coming to a stop in front of his brother.
Natasha carefully unlooped Clint's arm from her shoulder and took a respectful step away from the brothers.
"I'm good." Clint tried to reassure Castle as he swayed on his feet. From the look that Castle gave Clint it was clear that he wasn't reassured. "What about you? You good?"
"Me? Yeah." Castle waved a hand dismissively. He gripped Clint's shoulders with his hands, checking his little brother over to make sure that he was truly okay. When he seemed to pass some sort of test, Castle crushed Clint to him in a tight embrace.
The breath hissed out of Clint as his ribs screamed in protest, but he returned the hug as best as he could.
"Boys…" Jackson's voice hesitantly sounded.
The brothers pulled out of their hug and turned to face their father.
He gave them a small nod of approval. Castle smiled slightly, accepting the praise, but Clint's eyes narrowed and he stepped towards his father.
Clint's already bruised knuckles smacked into Jackson's nose, making a satisfying crunching sound.
"Bastard." Clint said firmly, over Castle's cries of protest. He turned on his heel and was planning on a dramatic march away from his family to his fellow SHIELD partners, but it failed as the world began to tilt and his vision grew blurry.
"Oh, shit." Was all Clint managed before his head met the ground and he was enveloped in a world of darkness.
Clint felt hands probing his chest and his eyes snapped open.
"Easy, easy." Doctor Banner's voice came through the fog that seemed to cloud Clint's head. "Just checking your stitches."
"I feel like shit."
"You look like shit too." Clint rolled his head to the side of the bed, eyeing Natasha who sat in a chair near his bed.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"Where am I?" Clint asked, trying to get up to take in his surroundings.
"At Stark Tower." Bruce supplied from Clint's side. "Tony thought it best for you to come here—even though I keep telling all of you that I'm not actually a medical doctor."
"We know that, doc." Clint said easily. He leaned back against his pillows. "We just happen to like you better than most doctors, medical or not."
Bruce shook his head. "You're lucky that you're not more badly hurt. Stitches and concussions I can deal with."
Bruce gave Clint a hard look. "If you start to feel worse than you do right now, I need you to tell me. No bullshit, okay?"
"You've got my word, doc." Clint said.
"Good." Bruce gave Clint one last look before taking his leave.
He was barely gone before Natasha was talking. "What the hell was that back there, Clint?"
"Which part?" Clint asked tiredly. "The part where I decked my dad or the part where I left the hospital?"
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Both."
"Well, I decked my dad because he's a tool and you know why I left the hospital. Listen, getting nabbed by Beckham wasn't part of the plan. I would've called you and probably Steve. It shouldn't have ended up like that."
"You're right." Natasha stood up. "It shouldn't have gone down like that. You're damn lucky, you know that right?"
"Yep."
Natasha crossed the small room to the door, pulling it open.
"Hey, where are you going?" Clint asked.
"I've got work to do." Natasha said. "Fury wants Steve and me for a mission."
Clint frowned. "What about me?"
Natasha snorted. "You're not going anywhere for a while." With those words Natasha left the room, leaving Clint alone.
He sighed heavily; if this kind of thing happened every time he came to New York…
The door opened again.
"Nat, please tell me—,"
"I'm not Agent Romanoff."
Clint winced. Hall wasn't exactly on his list of people he ever wanted to see again. "Agent Hall."
"Barton." Hall stopped at the foot of Clint's bed. He narrowed his eyes at Clint, pulling open the brown folder he had in his hands. He glanced down at the papers, ignoring Clint for the moment.
After a purposefully long wait, Hall glanced back up. "It seems, Barton, that despite your incompetence on this mission you somehow managed to pull it off with minor casualties. You even happened upon Bullseye, a notorious killer."
"I didn't happened upon him." Clint said annoyed. "He almost killed me."
"But clearly you're still alive."
Clint took a breath. "Yes, I am."
"Good."
"You know what—huh?" Clint stopped his rant before it got started. "What?"
"Good." Hall repeated somewhat amused. "You're a good agent Barton, if insubordinate. I look forward to working with you again." He snapped the folder closed and started to make his exit. "Take care of yourself, Barton."
"Thanks." Clint said. He watched the door close on Hall hardly believing the change in the other agent. "Well, that was unexpected."
"Birdbrain! It's good to see you up and about." Tony said looking up from what looked like blueprints of something spread out on the kitchen counter.
Clint grunted in response, putting his duffel down at his feet. He had wanted to leave Tony's 'hospital room' days ago, but Bruce had, for once, put his foot down and insisted that Clint stay and rest up for the rest of the week.
Reluctantly, Clint had compiled; he really didn't want to deal with Mr. Green.
"So, you're leaving us?" Bruce asked coming into the kitchen.
"Yep." Clint said. "Fury wants me back at Headquarters for my debriefing and then some medical checkups. I think he has a mission for me." Clint didn't mention his hope that his mission involved him working with Natasha or Steve; he hadn't heard from either of them for a few days.
"Sir, Agent Barton's family is here to see him off." JARVIS'S voice rang through the room.
"Send them up." Tony said waving a hand.
Clint sighed. This was something that he wasn't really looking forward to.
Within a few minutes the elevator dinged and the Rodgers family filed out.
Clint could feel Tony and Bruce edging out of the room behind him. He almost wanted to tell them to stay so that he wouldn't have to deal with this alone.
For a moment, no one said anything. The silence was broken when Alexis suddenly ran forward, her arms out. Clint had just enough time to open his crossed arms before his niece flew into him.
"I've missed you." She said somewhat shyly.
He smiled and tightened his hold on her. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I know you've got your…job." Alexis said, pulling away from him. Her blue eyes were full of curiosity, but she didn't ask any more questions about it, for which Clint was grateful.
"Oh, Clint." Martha said. She had followed behind Alexis and had been waiting her turn.
"Mother." Clint said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck awkwardly.
Martha shook her head and pulled her son into an embrace.
"Don't do this again."
"Do what again?" Clint asked innocently.
Martha's eyes narrowed. "Almost get killed and scare us half to death."
Clint shrugged. "I didn't almost die. I just got beat up a bit."
Martha opened her mouth to say something more, but snapped it closed when Castle came up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"I see you've got your duffle packed." Castle said, nodding to the bag at his brother's feet. "You going somewhere?"
"Work." Clint said simply.
Castle sighed heavily, nodding. "I see."
"Sorry." Clint offered.
"Not really your fault."
There was a snort from Martha, who apparently begged to differ.
The brothers faced each other for a moment in silence. "You going to come back?" Castle finally asked.
Clint shrugged. "I'll try."
"Try hard." Castle said firmly, finally grabbing his brother into a hug. "Be careful out there." He said softly.
"No promises." Clint said quietly. "But I'll try."
"Good."
They pulled away and Clint leaned down to pick up his bag. "I'll walk you guys out." He said. "I need to get going anyway."
There was a cough from behind the family. Clint peered over the head of his brother, his eyes hardening.
"What are you doing here?"
"You're my son." Jackson said.
"And?"
"And I want to make this right before you go."
"It's not going to happen." Clint said.
"Clint…" Castle said from his side.
"What?" Clint snapped, harsher than he meant.
"Just…talk to him." Castle pleaded. "Please."
Clint huffed out a sigh, but moved past his family to where Jackson stood.
Jackson looked his son up and down before settling on Clint's hard face. "You've had a rough time of it—,"
"No shit."
"—but you've come out on top." He paused. "You've done well. It seems that you never really needed me after all."
Clint's jaw clenched. "Didn't need you? We did need you! ...But you're right, we don't anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"That's not good enough." Clint said.
"I know." Jackson replied.
They stared at each other for a moment, before Clint finally said, "I've got to go."
Jackson nodded and was about to step out of Clint's way, when he changed his mind halfway through and instead grabbed Clint into a rough embrace.
For a moment, Clint struggled to get out, but after a few seconds he relaxed against his father's chest.
They pulled apart, holding each other at arm's length. "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you." Clint said.
"I wouldn't expect it to." Jackson replied, a smile on his lips.
When the family got to the first floor of the tower, they were met with a scene that was unexpected.
Tony was pushed up against the wall, his hands behind his back, while Beckett was pulling out her handcuffs as she snapped out a string of swear words.
"What did you do?" Clint demanded.
"I didn't do anything!" Tony yelped.
"Whatever." Clint said, throwing his hands up in the air. "This is your mess, you deal with it; I've got a plane to catch."
"Clint, wait!" Tony pleaded. "You can't leave me like this! After all I gave you these past few weeks. I thought we were friends!"
Clint didn't say anything as he walked past Beckett and Tony to the glass doors. "I'll see you around, Stark." Clint paused and then said, "When you're in jail just remember not to drop the soap."
"That's it!?" Tony said. "Those are your words of wisdom to me? Well, guess what, Barton, they're shit!"
Clint ignored Tony's pleas, giving his family one final look, a small smile on his face, before he pushed open the door and exited.
Castle watched his brother disappear into the crowds of New York before turning his attention on his girlfriend and the billionaire that she appeared to be arresting.
"Beckett, you can let him go."
Beckett gave Castle a glare that quickly shut up him.
"Sorry," Castle said to Tony, "but Clint was right, you're on your own with this one."
The End
A/N: And there we have it. The end of the story.
I want to thank everyone for sticking with it and helping me out along the way. I wouldn't have been able to finish this without you guys.
Cheers.
