Fractured

Things had been going fairly well, for the most part. Clint didn’t want to say it was going good or better than he imagined because normally when he thought that, that’s when the other shoe would drop. But he couldn’t deny that he was starting to feel a bit more like he belonged. Sure he still had sleepless nights with flashes of his time under Loki but they were becoming less and less frequent. And he was starting to get to know the team a bit better and finding himself finding some common grounds to build friendships. Bruce reminded him a lot of his older brother and while the thought of Barney was still painful in many ways, it was nice to be around someone who he could pester and bother and who would take it in good fun. To an extent, of course – he didn’t want to make the other guy mad. Lately Clint had been on a mission to teach Bruce what good films were. “Greatest movie of all time?” Bruce asked when Clint had posed the question. “I don’t think there is one. Or not to your idea of a movie. I tend to watch more documentaries on scientific breakthroughs.”

Clint had almost been offended by this and now they had movie nights where Clint would pick a movie and they would sit and watch it so Bruce could “get some culture” so to speak.

Then there was Thor and the two had a very similar trait that was both a blessing and a curse. The two loved food. Clint had found this out when he was making an epic sandwich and he noticed Thor watching in both shock and amazement. Clint ended up making him one as well, which led to Clint showing Thor the best pizza place in New York and the Coney Dog. The problem was now it was a fight to get the food before Thor ate it. One night Clint had gone to get some pickles for his sandwich and found them gone. Just a note from Thor saying he owed him a jar of pickles. And maybe it was childish but Clint then thought to get back at the guy by taking the last box of Pop tarts.

Tony still was mad that he had to replace the toaster for that.

With Steve out of commission and after a lot of vetting and checking by Natasha, Bucky had taken up the role of Captain America. “Only until Steve wakes up,” he had informed everyone. Clint had been…hesitant at first. He recalled a very early mission he had been on with SHIELD to protect a diplomat that ended up with Clint being on the wrong end of the Winter Soldier’s sniper rifle…and knife. But then Bucky had his sit down with him, just like he had with everyone else where it was just the two of them and the apology he got – Clint felt it. Because he knew. Brainwashing was a nasty business and having recently been the victim of that as well, he knew how much Bucky had been suffering as well. Which is why they ended up getting along quite well and Clint found someone else he could work through his post-Loki issues with.

But of the whole team, Clint felt more of a connection with Tony. He wasn’t sure what it was – maybe it was the fact that Tony had witnessed him after Natasha had subdued him during the attack on the Helicarrier. Or maybe it was because when he first arrived at the Tower Tony had tried very, very hard to make Clint feel welcome while giving him the space he needed. He wasn’t quite sure which but he found himself enjoying the man’s company, as well as taking care of their new team leader. Steve wasn’t waking up any time soon, Bucky was still in the process of figuring himself out, Bruce and Thor both agreed they’re more the hitting kind rather than the leaders, which left Natasha, Tony and himself. Natasha didn’t want it. She much more preferred the shadows, as did Clint. That and Clint made the statement, “Bad things happen when I lead. You put me in charge and the next thing you know I’m in the middle of nowhere with no pants.”

So that left Tony and yeah, he seemed okay with the prospect, but the problem was that he, too, was struggling with something. Something he tried very, very hard to hide from people, but Clint and Natasha both were able to identify it.

Tony had an alcohol problem.

Clint didn’t drink. It was a personal choice. Sure, he had the occasional glass of champagne or martini when on a mission at some fancy gala but it was only ever one and he never finished it. He didn’t like what alcohol did to people and with his father having been the abusive drunk that he was, he never found a want or will to try and enjoy it. Now that isn’t to say he disapproved of anyone drinking, but when he noticed excessive drinking, he got concerned. Especially when it came to the leader of the Avengers and a man that, for all intents and purposes, he considered a friend.

Since moving into Avengers Tower, Clint first started noticing how Tiny always seemed to have a glass of something in his hand. At first he didn’t think anything of it until one night when he was leaving the training room and he noticed how Tony was stumbling out of his lab. He didn’t have to get close to smell the alcohol emanating from his person’s to know what the cause of it was. Clint helped Tony to his room and tucked him in but after that, he decided to keep a closer eye on him. The leader of the Avengers couldn’t keep doing this to himself.

Once he started watching Tony more closely is when he noticed the problem. He wasn’t subtle about watching Tony. In fact, he went out of his way to make it obvious. “You know, for being a spy you’re bad at hiding what you’re doing,” he even commented once.

Clint just shrugged with a smirk. “Whoever said I was trying to hide anything?”

“You do know I’m fine and I don’t need you judging me while I drink, right?”

“Are you?”

Tony didn’t answer.

After that, things got a little tense between the two of them. Clint would notice when Tony started having a little too much and try to intervene which would always end up backfiring one way or the other. Clint was about ten seconds away from pouring all his whisky down the drain but Natasha stopped him. “You’re only going to make things worse if you do that.”

“Yeah, well, have you seen Tony, Nat? There’s barely a day he’s gone without almost falling over because he’s been drinking.”

“I’m not saying that it isn’t a problem. We all see it but going toe-to-toe with him about this is only going to make him more resilient to any kind of help. You, of all people, should know that.”

Clint cast her a look because he knew she was right. He was very similar in that regard. “So what do we do, then? Because we can’t just let him keep doing this to himself. The team needs him.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

A look was shot between them but this time, it was Natasha at Clint. Yes, she had been the one to say it, but the look in her eyes said everything – she knew he hadn’t. After working with Clint for years she knew his mannerisms and his processes and talking was not anywhere close to how he handled things. “You know, sometimes I hate that you’re my best friend,” he muttered with a smirk.

“You and me both. Don’t make me lock you two in a room together.”

Clint huffed a laugh before heading to Tony’s workshop. He knew Tony was no doubt down there because that’s where had been hiding himself quite a lot lately. Something about a project to keep the world safe. He wasn’t quite sure how well that was going to go but hey, if it meant he could spend more time with Laura now that she was pregnant with their third then who was he to say no? The only worry Clint had was how much of this project was worked on while Tony was sober. Either way, he couldn’t go in hot. As he reached the glass doors he saw Tony and the half-empty bottle of scotch next to him. Jesus, Tony, how are you still standing? “JARVIS, unlock the door,” Clint asked the AI and waited for the door to open before stepping in.

“If you’re going to accuse me of stealing the peanut butter, Barton, it wasn’t me. You should go check the other bird’s nest.” How Tony knew it was Clint, Clint would never know but he wasn’t going to ask how he knew. “No, that’s not why I came down here, but thanks for the head’s up about the peanut butter.”

Clint eyed the scotch and, out of instinct, grabbed the bottle from next to Tony. Tony swayed as he reached out to snatch it back but Clint held it out of arm’s reach. “Give me a break. I just want to have my drink in peace…”

“Look, Tony…”

“…it’s just a few drinks…”

“Tony….”

“…and I don’t feel like getting lectured…”

“Would you for once stop talking and listen?” Clint stated, maybe a bit louder than he intended but considering Tony was still talking, he needed him to hear him. It did get Tony to stop talking and stare blankly at him, which was a start. Clint sighed as he sat the bottle down next to him while he leaned against the desk. Where the hell did he start? “I get it,” he found himself saying, “I really do. Not the drinking bit, but the need to numb yourself because of the shit life has thrown at you. I don’t cope well when bad shit happens. You can even ask Tasha. But you got to find a new way to cope because you’re the leader of this team and we need you ready at any moment.”

“Right, I’ll just get over what happened in the last few months right now. Great pep talk, Barton.”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”

“Isn’t it? I mean, it’s either that or bottle it up and pretend like everything is okay like you do. Tell me, Clint, when is the last time you slept? And don’t try lying to me. I have JARVIS running round the clock. I know about your late night trips to the roof and training room.”

Clint didn’t respond because he couldn’t lie. He hadn’t slept since Loki. “That’s what I thought. So don’t lecture me on taking care of myself when you can’t even do the same thing.”

Clint’s first curled for a moment but he didn’t lunge or swing like the voice in his head told him to. Keeping a cool head had worked well for him in the past but lately he found his temper shortened. He took a deep breath before stating, “Still, we need you, Tony.”

“No, we need Rogers.”

“Cap is not here. You are.”

“Yeah, Barton, I’m very aware he’s not here, no thanks to you.” Clint’s eyes narrowed as he watched Tony stand up, albeit clumsily. “Where were you, Barton? And don’t give me the classified bullshit excuse that you and Natasha normally give. Where were you when Cap needed you?”

“I could ask you the same question.” His fingers wrapped around the bottle as he picked it up and promptly left. There was no point in talking to him like this but like hell he was going to leave the poison behind for Tony to use to sink further into whatever it was he was trying to get into. He could hear Tony  yell at him to bring back the bottle but he just kept walking, feeling the need for some fresh air.

At some point Tony had passed out and was rudely woken when a fiery redhead stormed into the lab. “Stark, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Tony had jumped, quickly lifting his head off the desk and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

He turned in his chair, coming face-to-face with a very angry, very cross Natasha Romanoff. “Did you really suggest that you blamed Clint for what happened to Steve?”

Tony groaned as he felt the beginnings of his hangover start to set in. “I don’t blame him.”

“Then explain to me why Clint has been on the roof for the past three hours wondering if you were right to blame him? Do you have any idea how guilty he already feels about everything?”

Tony heaved a sigh, both in pain from the onset of the headache and from realizing that he may or may not have screwed up a bit. Not that he would admit it aloud. “I may have gotten a bit defensive…”

“A bit? Tony…” Natasha stopped as she took a deep breath. Her arms fell from in front of her as she rested one of her hands on his shoulder. “Clint is many things and a bleeding heart is absolutely one of them. He just wants to help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Don’t need or don’t want any?” Natasha took the silence as confirmation to her question. “Just talk to him and hear him out. I mean, I did and I don’t think I turned out too bad.”

“Can I at least wait until I’ve had some breakfast?” Natasaha answered him with a glare. “Okay, okay….roof, right? Jesus, has anyone told you you’re terrifying when you’re mad?”

Tony didn’t wait around for an answer before heading to the roof. Sure, his head hurt and he could feel how bad his hangover was going to be which made him want to go get himself a Bloody Mary but no doubt Natasha was watching him. He was at least glad that it was still night time so when he arrived on the roof the only light he got was from the city surrounding them. New York was beautiful, even if it was still being rebuilt after the Chitauri. It was most definitely a sight needed to be taken in. But Tony did notice one thing – no Clint. Had Natasha lied to him? “Barton….? Look, I don’t have time for hide and go seek.”

“What do you want, Stark?”

Tony spun around, noticing how Clint was sitting on the other side of the roof with his feet dangling off the edge. How in the world he could do that without worrying about falling was something he just couldn’t get. “Ah, there you are. Please tell me you didn’t finish off that scotch….”

“I don’t drink, Stark.”

“Right…right….flushed it down the drain?”

Clint held up the bottle and gave it a swirl, showing that he still had it and not a drop was missing. Had he really been sitting there this whole time with that bottle? “Well, at least you didn’t throw it off the roof….I’m sure whoever it would have hit would be in the hospital…actually, you have perfect aim. You’d probably make sure….”

“Again, what do you want, Stark?”

Tony paused and took a deep breath before walking up to him. He thought about sitting down next to him but without his armor, he didn’t feel like getting close to the edge. “I’m here to talk and….do you mind coming away from the edge? Without my suit I’m pretty vulnerable to falling from high up.”

Clint sighed before pushing himself up to his feet and turning to Tony. Now Tony was accustomed to seeing the dark circles under Clint’s eyes but for whatever reason, they were much more noticeable now. It made him wonder when the last night of good sleep the man truly had was. “Let me guess – Tasha?”

“Yeah….that woman has a scary superpower.” Tony rubbed his hands nervously in front of him as he took another step towards Clint. “I realize I might have…projected some of my own thoughts and feelings onto you, which isn’t fair….

“You can stop, Tony,” Clint interrupted, putting his hand up to stop him as well, “You didn’t say anything that I wasn’t already thinking.”

“Still, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for Steve. Not anymore than I blame myself.” Clint nodded as he held out the bottle for him. “You do realize drinking only makes you dwell on it more, right?”

Tony smirked as he took the bottle from him. “For not being a drinker, you sure do know how it works.”

“Yeah, well, when you grow up with an alcoholic dad who uses you for a human punching bag, you catch on to a few things.” Now, Tony didn’t have the best relationship with his own father, but he could at least say that his dad never laid a finger on him. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like for someone like Clint. “You’re not alone in your guilt, you know. Pretty sure everyone here feels the same way you do. So maybe instead of going for another glass you seek out your friends. We need each other. We’re a team, right?”

Tony nodded, looking at the bottle. “Yeah….how about we make a deal, then.”

Clint crossed his arms as he stared at Tony. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll cut down on this,” he said, holding up the bottle, “if you heed your own advice and seek out help so you can get some sleep, too. We need you at 110% when we go out on missions and I’m pretty sure being exhausted effects your vision.”

Clint chuckled a little under his breath. “Fine, deal.”

Clint bypassed Tony and put a hand on his shoulder. “You up for some coffee and breakfast?”

“That depends….you making waffles again?”

“I think I can do that.”

“Sir, I think I may have a lead on a possible sighting of Loki’s scepter.”

Tony and Clint looked at one another. “Suit up?” Clint asked.

“Yeah…but you’re not suiting up in your old stuff. JARVIS, alert the team to be ready in five. I’ve got to show Barton his new gear.”

TBC…