Avengers 1. Prologue

As If I Was Human

Prologue

Clint Barton, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, sighed loudly as he viewed the file in front of him. His new mission dossier had arrived, and as usual, he had been looking forward to analyzing his next target, assessing all their weaknesses and forming a plan of attack. As a trained assassin, Clint took pride in killing, and made sure each execution was, well, _executed_ as gracefully as possible. Not that he didn't enjoy a good old fashioned brawl every now and then, but if there was a choice, Clint preferred sharp-shooting. One clean shot, and one more successful mission.

Clint Barton loved his job. And he was good at it. S.H.I.E.L.D. had plenty of agents working for them, but out of all of those, only a few were fully trained field operatives, trusted to work alone. Clint spent most of his time alone. His job required it. That was the beauty of a sharp-shooter. He could be in position, finger on the trigger, body coiled ready to sprung, for hours. Not moving, barely blinking, waiting for the mark to be in position. It's not something you could do whilst in company. To be that focused while another breathed beside you. No, Clint may have been part of an organization, but he was not part of a team. That was how he liked it. He was a killer, and he liked to kill alone.

Not this time, however.

Clint didn't understand, if he was honest. Covert operations were more Natasha's style. Getting in and out undetected, information in hand, that's what she was good at. A spy. Why didn't Fury send her? It didn't make sense. But, he supposed, it wasn't his job to speculate, it was his job to kill. Usually.

The screen, now placed on the table, showed the profile of a young woman. A woman who Clint was not being sent to kill. Running his fingers through his short brown hair, Clint sighed again, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. Women can be dangerous, he knew that well enough, but this _Carter Thomas_ didn't show any signs of being some sort of threat.

Still, he reasoned, looking back down at the screen, she had disappeared from the grid at a young age, and had clearly spent most of her life hiding. Clint picked the tablet back up, his fingers tapping through the information. There wasn't a lot to read.

_Carter Thomas_, using the alias "Claire Bronson", had been spotted living in a small town in New Mexico. The agent sent on reconnaissance had screwed up, alerting "Claire", who then fled the country. She was now working in a small cafe in Brazil, under the name "Taylor Lithgow". Not much else was recorded.

Scrolling back through the information, Clint returned to the profile picture. The previous agent had managed to take a few covert snapshots before Carter had discovered him. Long black hair, blue eyes, 24 years old, about 5'4 in height, looked to weigh 120 lbs. Clint stored the info away in the back of his mind, looking closer through the photographs. Since fleeing, Carter would have altered her appearance some how. She was used to being on the run, after all.

Slim frame, Clint noted, thin hands and face. Small scar under her left eye. Searching for aspects of her appearance she wouldn't be able to change, Clint flicked through each photo set, taking in all the tiny details he would need.

An hour later, he felt he had all he needed for now. The plane would be landing soon and he needed to change clothes. Shrugging off his S.H.I.E.L.D. standard issue black jacket, Clint ran through his cover in his head. Although he would mostly be watching Carter from afar, his official story, should he need to approach her, was that of a struggling writer in search of new inspirations. S.H.I.E.L.D. had acquired him a small apartment overlooking the cafe "Taylor Lithgow" waitressed in, meaning he could work from the comfort of his own home.

A smirk spread across his face as he tugged on a pair of worn out jeans. He originally accepted this mission with some amount of trepidation, but now it seemed like the easy job would be something of a vacation for him. A few months in the sun, near the beach, sitting on the balcony watching an attractive young woman serve food. It actually didn't sound too bad, now that he thought it over. And Carter Thomas was certainly attractive enough. No typical jaw dropping beauty, but exactly Clint's type. Messy, not quite wavy, not quite straight hair, bright eyes, and a rough, wild demeanour that made Clint smile to himself.

Even if he didn't really see the point of this mission, he was damned sure going to enjoy it.


	2. Chapter One Target Acquired

**Hello, Jay here. I was audibly shocked that the prologue actually got reviews, so thank you so much! This chapter was half written when I read them, and I just thought "Crap, quick, hurry and finish it!" So I did. I hope you enjoy the story, and like the character of Clint. He wasn't in the movie as much as the rest of The Avengers, so I'm a little worried about getting his personality right, but he seems fairly calm and collected, with a quick witted streak. I adore him. Can't help it. Curse you, Barton!**

**Anyway, here is Chapter One, and thanks again for your lovely words.**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter One - Target Acquired

"Curt's in again," Zandra whispered, startling Carter out of her stupor. Leaning against the counter in the break room, she had been daydreaming when her co-worker surprised her.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Worlds away here."

"Curt," Zandra repeated. "The writer." A smile splayed across her face, Zandra wiggled her eyebrows. "I think he likes you, you know. Always watching you, trying to be so secretive." This time Carter shook her head rather vigorously.

"Are you kidding me," she laughed. She refused to believe the ruggedly handsome man would be interested in her. He was such a mystery; a writer that never quite seemed to write anything. But he did seem to watch her, she had to admit. At first she was worried she had been found again, but he never did or said anything, just drank his coffee, ate his sandwich and left.

He had come in at 1pm on the dot every other day for nearly three weeks now.

"He's got better things to do than check out his waitress," Carter then said, smiling at Zandra.

"Come on, Taylor," Zandra sighed. "Just embrace it for once." And with that, she swanned out of the break down, closing the door behind her. Carter glanced up at the clock. Five more minutes. Closing her eyes, she tried to **embrace** what was left of her lunch break.

It had been a hectic few months, finding a new haven since being discovered in New Mexico, but heading to Brazil had been a pretty good idea. Working on the tourist stretch, serving in a little café, where people spoke English, it was pretty easy going. But when "Curt the Writer" started showing up, she became nervous. She had never been found twice so quickly, but Curt seemed so…intense. He didn't just watch her, he took in everything around him. It was the first thing Carter had noticed about him. His eyes darted around the entire café before he was even completely through the door.

Three weeks later, however, he was just another part of her routine. Carter tried not to pay too much attention to him. He was definitely more than he pretended to be, but then again, so was she. Deciding she was being a hypocrite, Carter had swore to just turn a blind eye and let him be. If he was looking for her, he couldn't have realised he'd found her, otherwise he'd had shipped her off to God knows where.

Carter shuddered, shaking the thoughts off. The past was in the past, Curt didn't seem to be a threat to her, and Carter had bigger things to worry about. She still wasn't used to answering to "Taylor" yet, and her fake driver's license hadn't been delivered when it should have been. She could only last so long with out it.

Pushing her body away from the counter she had been leaning against, Carter swept her fingers though her hair and dusted herself down. Lunch break over, she returned to the gentle bustle of the café.

* * *

Clint glanced at his watch. His simple, civilian watch. His boring, black Timex that didn't have GPS, or a laser beam, or a small explosive core that could provide a handy distraction in a pinch. God, it was so archaic. It told the time. Nothing else. Didn't even have one of those little dials with the date. Couldn't glow in the dark, or be submerged an interesting number of metres under water. Clint hated it. It was just a watch, but he hated it.

_1:07pm_ it read. Where was Carter? She always served his lunch at 1pm. That other waitress, Zandra, was standing idly at the counter, examining her nails whilst she waited for an order to be prepared. She must've sensed his eyes on her, because she caught his gaze with a smile, quickly trotting over to him.

"Heya Curt," she greeted him, raising her pen and pad. "The usual, I presume."

"That'd be great, yeah," Clint replied, stretching his arms out in front of him, smirking as Zandra tried not to stare. God, he loved it when women checked out his arms. As an archer, they were smooth and refined, taut with muscle. Women couldn't help themselves when he flexed. "Taylor not in today?" He asked, sounding purposely casual. Zandra grinned.

"She's having her break," she explained. "It was a busy morning, so she wanted it early." Clint nodded as Zandra then regaled him with the tale of the tourist group that spoke English, but were determined to order in Spanish. Not quite listening, Clint let her words drift over him until she leaned in close. "You know," he realised she was saying. "If you'd _rather_ Taylor served you, you could just go hungry for another five minutes. Her break is almost over."

"Thanks, Zandra," he replied, taking care not to show his true feeling. "But I don't mind who serves me, I was just wondering where she was."

"Right," Zandra rolled her eyes, jotting down his usual order. "Well, she'll be out soon anyway." Clint sighed as she returned to the counter, ripping his order from her notepad and pinning it on the board with the rest.

He was not a very good spy, he had discovered. Since his arrival at the café, known officially as Karem's Café, he had been caught watching Carter more times than he could be bothered counting. As a result, Zandra had engaged him in conversation, believing his interest to be of a romantic nature. Unsure of how else to explain, he simply kept his answers noncommittal, letting her believe what she liked. Whether Zandra had told Carter or not, he didn't know, but she had never acted any differently to him since then.

As for the mystery of Carter Thomas herself, Clint remained sceptical. She still didn't appear to be any sort of danger to anyone, let alone the entire country. Sure, he had noticed a bit of a temper, but working a full shift with obnoxious tourists will fray anyone's nerves after enough time. The only thing he had discovered of note was that she had catlike reflexes. Even that wasn't particularly special. Plenty of people in the world react quicker than others, but it was all he had. He had also sent some feelers out, looking into what contact she had with any…**shady** characters. So far he had received no information back though, leaving his conclusion unchanged.

Carter Thomas was hiding, but he could not figure out why. Of course, Fury had his reasons for wanting her under surveillance, but none of these had been shared with Clint himself. All he could do, was just what he had been doing. Stay close, and stay aware.

It was with that thought that the back room door slammed shut, and Clint glanced over to see the mystery herself emerge.

In the dossier, Carter had long black hair, down to her elbows, but since going back on the run she had hacked most of it off, the length now barely gracing her shoulders. Apart from half an inch of roots, the colour was now dirty blonde, and her pale skin had tanned slightly. Clint had preferred her previous styling, but she still looked good. She dressed differently too now. The photoset had contained images of her mostly in jeans and baggy t-shirts, obviously dressed not to draw attention to herself, but now she was currently dressed in a bright orange wispy skirt that fell just past her legs, and her torso was wrapped in a pale brown vest, decorated with beads along the hemline. Her arms jangled with bracelets and bangles, and a long necklace hung down to her navel, where a shimmering silver piercing peaked out from the gap between vest and skirt. A little less his type now, Clint admitted, but he could still appreciate a pretty lady.

She looked over to him, acknowledging him with a small nod. He gave her one back, and finally turned his attention to the newspaper he had brought in with him.

_Target acquired_.


	3. Chapter Two Night Out

As If I Was Human

Chapter Two - Night Out

Clint did a quick time check. Nearly closing time at the café. Standing up, he shrugged on his leather jacket, making sure to fix the collar, and grabbed hold of the chair, dragging it out onto the balcony. Carter always locked up. It was nothing exciting, or even interesting, but Clint made sure to watch anyway. His apartment was perfectly located, just across the street from the café, and he couldn't help smirk at the thought of S.H.I.E.L.D. forcing out some poor fools just to accommodate Clint for his mission.

Sitting down at the small table that stood on the balcony, Clint opened up his laptop. So far Carter had never looked up and saw him, but if she ever did, all she'd see would be him tapping away. She'd assume he was "writing", really, he was just typing up a short status report for the day. It bored the hell out of him, but it kept him looking occupied.

Honestly, this was the favourite part of his day. He saw better from a distance, and from a young age enjoyed the rush he got from watching someone that had no idea he was there. It gave him a sense of power. Being unseen and unheard. Carter would lock the café up, pull down the shutters, and then head home, never knowing he was watching her the entire time. Not just watching, but seeing. She never struggled with pulling the heavy shutters down, never fumbled or dropped the keys. She always did this small but important job quickly and skilfully. That was the part he enjoyed most. Carter was able. She could use her hands and her body easily. And he knew that, because he knew what to look for.

There she was, he noted. The door swung closed behind her, now wearing a light white jacket over her vest from earlier, and she shut it tight, spinning the key in the lock neatly. Taking a step back, she then grasped the edge of the shutters and gave an easy tug, the metal rolling down smoothly and clicking when it reached the bottom. Carter then knelt down, buckling the straps in and slipped a padlock through them, locking it tight. She stood, rolling her shoulders back, straightening out her jacket, and left, striding up the street and out of Clint's line of sight when she turned the corner.

Leaning back in his seat, Clint sighed. He didn't know how much longer he'd be here, and as nice as it was having such an undemanding mission, he was beginning to get bored. Carter did nothing of note, and he never had anything worthy to report. Clint was used to a much faster pace of life, hunting, killing, and this was far too dull for his tastes.

If he was to get out of here, he needed something more incriminating on Carter. He needed a reason to bring her in. He needed a set-up.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Carter frowned, turning in her seat. Who the hell could that be? She put the television on mute, some soap opera she had on but wasn't even watching, and stood up slowly, listening for some clue to who was outside her crummy little box apartment at this hour. A quick glance at the clock told her it was after midnight.

The knock came again, more harsh this time. Carter shook herself out, and stepped up to the door, pulling it open fearlessly.

"Don, what the hell-" she began, pulling the man inside, closing the door quickly behind him.

"Don't start with me," Don cut her off, turning to face her. He reached into his dark coat, bringing out a brown envelope. "This wasn't easy to get a hold of. Lotsa checks happening right now."

Carter snatched the envelope from his hands, ripping it open to reveal her newly faked documentation. She breathed a sigh of relief, she had been beginning to wonder if she would ever get them delivered. But, still…

"You shouldn't have come here," she said to Don, looking the big man up and down warily. "You know you shouldn't. It's too suspicious." Don scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Don't start, I said," he muttered. "You said you've had fake ID before, we had to run this one carefully. Couldn't risk anything. Pedro thought you were a nark. Didn't trust you, still doesn't. Someone sniffing around us. Wanted to see if you were hiding anything."

Carter couldn't help but be a little taken back at that. Someone had been sniffing around? She gestured to her small apartment.

"You wanna have a dig about the place," she snarled. "Go ahead. I've got nothing. I just want a fresh start." Don held up his hands in apology.

"Don't care," he said. "Hide what you want. Pedro wants no more contact from you. If you got someone poking his nose where he shouldn't, tell him he'll end up ghosted, just like him that came 'round last night."

"Whoever that was had nothing to do with me," Carter promised. Don nodded, sniffing. Men like Don always sniffed. Dirty scumbags with more drugs in their system than sense. He stepped towards the door, giving her apartment a once over with his red rimmed eyes.

"We're done," he said. "Give me the rest of the money." Carter nodded, heading over to the television set. She gave the top a thump, jerking the plastic back off completely. She kept a stash of bills in there. She forked over the required amount, and after double checking the total, Don left, slamming the door behind him.

Carter let out a sigh of relief, turning her attention back to the envelope still clutched in her hands. Sitting down at the table, she tipped the contents out in front of her, picking up the little piece of plastic she had been waiting for. A shiny new driver's license. She couldn't wait to use it. Not that she intended to drive, she intended to get drunk. Forever carded when she went out, she had decided to wait until she had ID before accompanying Zandra and her friends on a wild weekend.

"Looks like this is the weekend," she whispered to herself with a grin. The past few months had been fairly stressful, Carter couldn't wait to let her hair down. Well, she thought, running a hand through her messy bob, what was left of it anyway.

* * *

The following Saturday at 1pm, Clint couldn't help but notice Carter was in a good mood. Her smile bounced off the walls, and she greeted him with more warmth than usual when she took his order.

"You seem happy," he remarked to her, leafing through his newspaper as she jotted down on her notepad. She smiled wider at him.

"Just excited," she replied with a slight curtsey he couldn't help but find cute. "Night out with the girlies tonight. First in a while. I'm needing it."

This could be interesting, Clint thought to himself. A chance to see her somewhere that wasn't this café, a chance to see how she handled herself around rowdy strangers pulsing with alcohol. He might even get to see her dance.

"Well," he said. "I hope you and the _girlies_ enjoy yourselves." Carter laughed softly.

"I'm sure we will," she grinned. He smiled as she slipped away to get started on his order. Making sure Carter was occupied, Clint beckoned to Zandra, who had been watching their exchange nosily. She scampered over, grinning ear to ear.

"Yes, Curt," she greeted him. "Didn't Taylor just take your order?"

"She did," he replied. "She was just telling me you have a night out planned-"

"Oh!" Zandra exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together. "You want to know where we're heading, don't you? Get a change to see your pretty waitress with a drink in her?" Clint nearly laughed.

"Just thought I might surprise her," he clarified. "If I find myself…_lacking inspiration _tonight, where might I find you all?"

It would have been easy enough just to follow them, and probably more satisfying, but Clint would need an excuse if he decided to reveal himself to Carter. Zandra scribbled down the name of the club, and the address, on the corner of his newspaper, looking over her shoulder to make sure Carter didn't notice them together.

"See you there," she whispered, giving him a wink. Clint smirked to himself as Zandra bounded away. The girls might not see him there, but he would definitely see them.


	4. Chapter Three The Set Up

As If I Was Human

Chapter Three - The Set-Up

Clint adjusted his sunglasses, stepping out of the sunlit street and into a grimy looking garage. A quick scan of the room revealed that there were two exits, including the door he had just used. Four men were scattered around the room, mechanics working on restoring an engine, and another three were hiding out of sight. Or they would be if Clint hadn't caught all of them. Out of the seven men, four were carrying concealed firearms, two held tools that could be used as weapons, and the last was on the phone, shouting away in Portuguese. However, he had a large spanner within reach.

All seven pairs of eyes were trained on Clint as he entered, unknowing to his sweep of the room. He knew the exact threat level of each of them, and it wasn't high. He wasn't going to have any trouble here.

"What you after, brother?" The largest of the mechanics spoke up, wiping the oil from his hands on a duster as he stepped towards Clint. "It's dangerous to walk into a man's work place uninvited." A monkey wrench hung at the man's side as he tightened his fist around it. Clint smirked.

"I'm looking for a Kris Garcia", he said calmly.

"And why would that be?" The man folded his arms across his chest, keeping the wrench in plain sight. It was supposed to be threatening, but Clint only found it amusing.

"I need a message delivered," he said. "And I like his style."

All the men tensed at that, Clint noted, and the man on the phone muttered something, slamming the receiver down. Clint gave the man that was standing before him a look, and stepped around him, approaching the man who was no longer on the phone.

"Mr Garcia," he said, lowering his sunglasses slightly. "I have something I'd like you to do for me." Kris Garcia sniffed loudly, chewing gum with an open mouth.

"I don't work for free," he spat out. "And I don't work for tourists neither."

"Oh, I'm not a tourist," Clint replied. "I'm here after a woman. A woman that needs to come to an understanding about me. You and your friends will be the ones explaining."

"You want us to talk to this…_woman_?" Kris laughed. "We don't mess with women, no one respects a crew that goes after some chick that blew the wrong dude."

"But you will," Clint assured him, pulling an envelope out of his jacket. "These are photos-" Kris snatched them from him, alarm in his eyes. "-of you and your _crew_ with what looks to be a man recently reported missing." Kris spat his gum out, as all six of his workers surrounded Clint, guns, spanners and wrenches raised. "I'm not here to negotiate, I'm here to tell you; you'll do what I want, or you'll all get some pretty heavy time in jail. Do we all-" Clint turned, addressing the whole garage. "-understand that?"

"No man that comes in here threatening me and my boys leaves in one piece," Kris warned Clint, picking up the spanner resting on the desk behind him. "No man. I hope you had a good laugh, 'cause now we're gonna mess you up!"

After what had been a dull couple of weeks, Clint had genuinely been hoping for a good fight when he found Kris Garcia and his thugs. So when Kris attempted to bring the spanner down on him, he couldn't help but grin as he dodged out of the way, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it towards him. Bending it back, he swiftly had him in a painful arm lock, and the spanner fell to the floor with a clatter.

Throwing Kris to the ground, Clint grabbed the monkey wrench as the first man swung it at him, disarming him and knocking him to the ground with a well placed kick to the side of his knee. Flipping the wrench in his hand, he smashed it against the face of the next fool that tried to attack him, knocking him out cold. He heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked, and slammed the wrench down on the barrel, causing the bullet to ricochet off the ground as the trigger was pulled. The thug dropped the gun from the impact, and Clint kicked it under the nearby car, dropping the wrench and throwing a punch into the man's face, stunning him into submission.

The next click was the much louder sound of a double barrelled shotgun, and Clint dove quickly out the way of the blast, rolling behind the offender and sweeping him to the ground. The gun went off again as he fell, ripping into the stomach of the second to last remaining thug. Clint stood to face the last man, picking up a nearby screwdriver, tossing it in his hand with a smirk on his face, before hurling it straight at him. It caught him straight in the jaw, causing him to reel back. Clint closed in, and hammered him in the face with his knuckles, before grabbing his shoulders and threw him to the ground.

Kris had managed to get back on his feet, and tried to reach into his desk drawer to pull out a gun. However, Clint kicked the drawer, slamming it shut on Kris's hand. He cried out as Clint grabbed the front of his shirt, thrusting him against the wall.

"You're right," Clint chuckled. "I did have a good laugh, but looks like I did the messing up." Casting a glance around the room, Kris took in the sight of his crew sprawled out on the floor, a couple bleeding, one with a gunshot wound, all groaning. Clint threw Kris into a nearby chair, reaching back into his jacket and pulled out a photograph. "This is Taylor Lithgow," he said, handing the picture to Kris. "On the back is an address and time. Take three men and watch for her coming out of the club. Hurt her." Kris licked his lips.

"She's a pretty thing. You want her in the hospital?" He asked, looking at the photo. Clint shook his head.

"No, just bruise her up a bit," he clarified. "Nothing too serious." Kris nodded, and had another look at his men.

"Doesn't seem like you'd have trouble dealing with her yourself," he said, turning back to Clint, who smirked.

"Maybe not," he agreed. "But I'd rather just watch."

"You'll be watching?"

"Every second of it."

Twenty minutes later, Clint was back at his apartment, looking at himself in the mirror. This was risky, he knew it, but he'd be there if something went wrong. The way he saw it, there were two possibilities. Either Carter Thomas was entirely harmless, and Clint would step in and save her before things got out of hand, or she would fight back, and Clint would instead know she had the potential to be dangerous.

Although, he thought with a sigh, he wasn't too sure on what to do after that. Fury would most likely want her taken in. It seemed a shame. Maybe Carter was a threat, but she didn't show any intentions of hurting anyone. In Clint's opinion she just wanted a normal life.

He picked up the screen that had been delivered to him the previous day. S.H.I.E.L.D. had turned up some new information on Carter. Whilst living as "Leanne Harvey", she had gotten caught in the crossfire of a gang fight. She had been slashed across the stomach, and spent weeks in the hospital recovering. The police had been unable to find those responsible, but someone else had. Little over a month later, six bodies had been found in a warehouse, all stabbed. Once again, the police had proved useless, and there was no more record of "Leanne". If it had been Carter, she had been ruthless.

As Clint reread the police reports, he couldn't help but wonder if he would be sending Kris and his crew to their deaths tonight. Not that he cared about them, but about Carter. Clint was a killer, he didn't grieve over the lives he took, but for some reason, he didn't think Carter felt the same. If she was a killer, that is. All the signs pointed to it, but Clint was yet to know for sure.

"Guess I'll find out soon enough," he muttered, placing the tablet back down. He took one last look in the mirror, before heading out the door.


	5. Chapter Four And The Execution

**Heya. The only reason this one is shorter than usual is because I wanted to leave it exactly there. Thanks again for all your reviews, they make my day.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Four - And The Execution

Sweat dripped down Carter's neck, beading across her chest and through her exposed cleavage. The thin, wispy white dress she was wearing now clung to her body with every twirl. She was a hot mess, and she was loving it. It had been so long since she had just been able to let go and forget about all the secrets she had locked up inside. All the bad memories, and sleepless nights were far from her mind as she just swayed and moved to the music.

Zandra's friend Ashlee grabbed hold of Carter's hands, pulling her from the dance floor and over to the bar, both of them laughing and stumbling as they wove through the crowded club. Zandra was propped up at the bar, four colourful cocktails set up. The other member of their party, Maria, was already sipping at one when Carter and Ashlee arrived next to them. Zandra winked at the two of them, sliding them each a drink. Carter took a cautious sip, eyebrows raised at Zandra's grin.

"Can I help you?" She shouted over the music.

"You're enjoying yourself," Zandra laughed. "Kind of makes me wonder why it took so long to talk you into a night out." Carter simply shrugged, obviously she couldn't tell the girls the real reason.

"Just didn't feel like it," she lied, downing more of the alcohol. The other three were more than a little tipsy, but Carter was still stone cold sober. Even the strongest drinks didn't have much effect on her. A friend from a previous alias once pointed out her suspicious lack of inebriation, and since then Carter had perfected the pretence of drunken behaviour. And so Zandra, Ashlee and Maria hadn't noticed a thing.

Clint had, however. He had watching from the shadows for four hours now. He had seen the girls arrive, and as the other three became steadily more and more drunk, Carter hadn't. She had drank and danced just as much as the others, but Clint could see her eyes were still clear and focused. It was definitely noteworthy, but, like her fast reflexes, common enough really. Some people just needed more alcohol than most to get drunk. Putting those thoughts to the back of his mind, Clint checked his watch; it was time for him to get into position.

* * *

It felt good to get out of the sweaty club and into the fresh night air. Clint closed the back door of the club behind him, crossed the street, and began his climb up the fire escape to the roof opposite. He had a vantage point already waiting for him, his bow and quiver in position. From here he could easily see Kris and his crew waiting for "Taylor", and also the entrance to the club Carter would shortly be using. Once again, a slight doubt niggled at him, but he shrugged it off. He would be here, watching. As soon as Carter was in any real danger, he'd let some arrows fly and she'd be safe.

Still, what was really bothering him was that with tonight his mission would be over. Either he'd leave Carter for good, or bring her in and hand her over to S.H.I.E.L.D. and most likely never see her again. It was almost a shame. Screw it, it **was **a shame. Clint had gotten used to seeing her all day every day, it'd take some time to readjust. Whatever job he got given next, chances were it would not be with such an attractive mark. In a weird way, Clint was going to miss Carter.

A low buzz from his watch snapped Clint out of his thoughts. It was time. Raising the bow, he trained his eye on Kris and waited.

Inside the club, Carter was about to receive a phone call, telling her there had been a break in at her apartment, and she needed to come home and talk to the police officers that were waiting. It had been easy enough to get the number of her cell phone, and easier still to arrange a colleague to make the call. Carter would exit the club to take the call, and head home alone, at which point Kris and his thugs would attack her. If she fought back, Clint would wait, but if they overwhelmed her, he'd had no choice but to interfere. She would probably get hurt either way, but that couldn't be helped.

And there she was. Carter had just stepped outside, phone held against one ear, finger blocking the other. She had concern written on her face as she conversed with the man on the other side. Glancing over, it was clear that Kris had seen her too, he said something to his men, and they stepped into the alleyway, thinking themselves out of sight. Clint had chosen this rooftop because it could see into the alley. With both Kris and Carter in his sights, he watched closely as Carter hung up the phone and began heading home.

The next few moments after that happened so fast. Carter broke into a run, her apartment a few blocks away, but one of Kris's thugs reached a hand out as she passed the alley. With a clatter, she was dragged off the street and hurled against the wall. Clint heard her cry of pain clearly through the quiet night. He nearly loosed an arrow there and then, but steeled himself. Carter didn't need him yet.

With Carter pinned against the wall, Kris snarled something to her. Carter had a look of confusion on her face, but Clint noticed there didn't seem to be any fear there. Still, he remained on edge, waiting for the slightest reason to kill.

Once again Kris shouted something in Carter's face, but this time she snapped back, shoving the man holding her away. That was when the gun came out. As a shot rang through the air, Clint acted on instinct, firing the four arrows before he had even realised it. He swung the bow over his shoulder, sprinting for the fire escape.

Within moments, he was on the ground, landing silently after jumping the last flight. He ran across the street and into the alley, four men dead and bleeding on the cement. But there was another. Carter was slumped against the ground, breathing heavily with her knees held tightly to her chest.

"Carter!" Clint knelt down next to her, his eyes checking her over for any injuries. "Carter, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she gasped, shaking her head. "I'm-" Carter froze, looking up at Clint. "You…you called me Carter."

Clint should've, at that moment, been worried about that little screw up with her name, but he had just noticed the dead men. He had loosed four arrows, and there were indeed four corpses, but only three had arrows in their necks. The fourth, the man who had pinned Carter against the wall, was slumped at a strange angle, his arm dislocated, his neck strangely removed from his shoulders. It was broken. It was what had killed him.

"How did you do _that_?"


	6. Chapter Five Trust

**Sorry for the delay with this one. It took me a while to figure out how it should go. The original idea was pretty different, but it didn't really work with how I wanted to story to progress, so I had to completely change it.**

**I'm thinking of writing a Loki story, but I don't know if I should wait until I finish this one, or write them both at the same time. The Loki story would be pretty different, and be a lot more…sexual, shall we say. If you'd rather I just concentrate on this then let me know.**

**As always, thanks for reading and reviewing.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Five - Trust

"I can't believe this," Carter groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Not again, not so soon. It isn't fair!" She peered at Clint through the gaps between her fingers. "Can't you just let me go? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You killed a man," Clint replied, finally tearing his gaze from the corpse in front of him. Four dead men, and only three were by his hand. Carter was strong, fast and definitely dangerous when she wanted to be.

"You killed the others," Carter pointed out sourly. "And I get the feeling you set me up anyway. That one-" she indicated Kris. "-said they had been sent to teach me a lesson. I assume that was you." Clint scoffed, standing up.

"We have to get out of here," he said, grabbing Carter's arm and pulling her up. "Someone will have heard that gun shot-"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Carter spat, wrenching her arm out of Clint's grasp. "You've been spying on me from the start, haven't you? Why? Who sent you? Why can't you-"

"I'll tell you everything," Clint cut her off. "But only if you come with me now." Carter cursed loudly, kicking one of the dead men in the side. The force of it caused him to be flung aside, where he hit the wall with a low slapping sound.

"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" She mumbled to herself. "Tell me, "_Curt the Writer"_, how long have you been planning this?"

"It's Clint," he corrected. "And I already said, come with me and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but we have to go **now**."

"Alright, alright," Carter sighed. "Lead the way."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Carter was standing in the kitchen of Clint's apartment, watching as he pulled out a glass bottle, pouring himself a shot of bourbon.

"I'd offer you one," he said, downing it easily. "But I noticed alcohol doesn't seem to affect you."

"So you _have _been spying on me?" Carter asked flatly, arms folded over her chest, suddenly aware of the revealing nature of her current outfit. She was dressed for clubbing, not interrogating.

"I've only ever known of one man with a similar affliction," Clint continued, ignoring the question; she knew the answer anyway. "His metabolism burned at such a high rate, the alcohol just didn't have enough time in his system to take effect." He watched Carter carefully as he poured himself another shot. "He was pretty tough too, could've killed that man just as easily as you did. They called him a super soldier back in the day. They called him Cap-"

"Captain America," Carter interrupted, with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, I've heard the stories." She stepped towards Clint, rubbing her temples. "Look…whatever your name is,-"

"Clint."

"_Clint_, I don't give a damn about what you've seen or what you've heard or whatever theories you and your people have about me, I just want to be left alone, okay?"

"No can do," Clint replied. "I'm here to assess whether or not you are a threat, and guess what? It looks like you are. You can kill."

"Everyone can kill," Carter pointed out. "And besides, I was attacked. On your orders. It doesn't prove anything. I'm not a bad person."

"Maybe not, but you're stronger than the average human," Clint said, raising his glass to his lips. "And on the run for a reason." He jumped in shock as Carter slammed her fist down on the worktop, making a dent in the surface.

"I'm only running because people keep coming after me!" She shouted. "People like you, who don't give a damn about me, they just want to see what I can do. I didn't ask for this, for any of it! All I want is to have a normal life."

Clint sighed. He knew the feeling all too well, but that didn't mean he could help her. He had his mission, and it was time to bring Carter in. What would happen to her after that was none of his concern. Or it shouldn't have been, but he found himself feeling something akin to worry. If Carter was some sort of super soldier, they would run test after test on her, keep her captive at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ until they had everything they wanted from her. There really wasn't anything he could do.

"People like us," he said quietly. "We don't get normal lives, Carter. We run and hide, and even pretend we're not special, but it doesn't matter. We get found sooner or later. You never know, maybe this is a good thing."

"Do you believe that?" Carter asked. "Even a little?"

"Yeah, I think I do actually." Clint pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, gesturing for Carter to do the same. "I'm not gonna lie and tell you it's easy, because it's not, but eventually you have to accept that someone is always gonna be after you. It's better just to meet them head on."

"And then what?" Carter muttered lowly, leaning back in her chair to look up at the dingy ceiling. "Spend the rest of my life locked up in some lab, getting poked and prodded with needles hanging out of me? I don't know who you are, Clint, or what makes you so special, but with me…it's in my blood. Literally. And they try to force it out of me. Syringes and pipes and tubes, sucking away at me, trying to grasp onto that tiny part of me that makes me so strong." Bringing her head forward, Carter looked at Clint, who was surprised to see her eyes wet with tears. He felt his heart lurch. "I won't go back to that. I'll die before I go back to that."

Clint stood abruptly, turning away from the sight of Carter looking so upset. He couldn't bear it. He was causing this and there was nothing he could do. This wasn't his area. He killed, he was a killer. Nothing more. What was he supposed to do? Comfort her? Ignore her? Her feelings were not part of his mission, and not something he was prepared for. He had thought he would simply bring her in, most likely kicking and screaming. He hadn't been expecting a…_confession_. She was telling him things he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know that she had suffered, that she was running with good reason. It just made what he was going to do, what he _had _to do, that much harder.

He turned to look back at her. She had her eyes cast down at the table, twisting a ring round and round her finger. _Why doesn't she run_, Clint wondered. _Why isn't she trying to escape?_ Did she believe he'd be able to stop her, to catch her? He wasn't sure if he'd even try anymore.

Both of them jumped when Clint's phone suddenly burst into action, the ring tone brutally breaking the silence. Clint lifted it to his ear, leaving the room to talk.

Carter watched him leave, knowing that if she was to escape now would be her chance. Yet, she didn't move. She couldn't bring herself to.

"What'd be the point," she mumbled, closing her eyes. She was tired. Physically and emotionally. She'd been running for nearly twenty years, and now she'd finally been caught. It was almost a relief. Maybe Curt, sorry _Clint,_ was right. He definitely had some history himself, and now he was working for the very people he might have been running from himself. Carter didn't know. Could this be a blessing in disguise? "Dad," she whispered, her eyes tearing up again. "What do I do?"

"I'm bringing you in." Carter's eyes snapped open as Clint spoke. "Fury, my boss, he's not a bad guy, I swear. You won't get locked up or anything as long as you cooperate."

"And if I don't?"

"He mentioned something about a 'boot'."

"I…I don't know what that means," Carter said carefully. Clint shrugged.

"Me neither," he said. "But Fury's always got something secret I don't know about."

"Do you trust him?" Carter asked. "Can **I **trust him?"

"Only if he can trust you," Clint replied.


	7. Chapter Six Numb

As If I Was Human

Chapter Six - Numb

Two hours of freedom. That was all Carter had left, before the people Clint worked for arrived and took her away. They'd handcuff her, Clint had said, just as a precaution. But once she was safe in the HQ, they'd take them off. Clint promised. Sitting alone on his couch, Carter stared at her feet, numbness seeping through her. She didn't really know what she was feeling. Fear, most likely. It wasn't quite registering in her brain. She had been caught, and she just had to accept it.

"Here." Carter looked up from the floor to see Clint holding out a plain black shirt to her. She frowned in confusion. "I figured you'd want to cover up a little." Carter glanced down at her revealing attire, and with a sigh held her hand out to receive the shirt. Clint watched as she slid her arms into the sleeves, fixing the collar around her neck. It was strange to see his shirt wrapped around his prisoner.

"How are you feeling?" He found himself asking as he took a seat beside her on the couch.

"Not sure," she murmured, shaking her head gently. "Kind of…drained, I guess. Defeated."

"Well, you had a good run," came his reply. "Eighteen years without getting caught…most people wouldn't be able to pull that off.

"I'm not like most people," Carter sighed, pulling Clint's shirt tighter round her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, the strong scent somehow…comforting. "I'm different."

"You can say that again," Clint chuckled, relaxing back into the couch. "You killed a man in the time it took me to fire four arrows. That's pretty quick." Carter couldn't help but smile at that.

"You sound impressed," she said, a spark of pride fizzing in her stomach.

"Hey, I kill for a living," Clint defended himself. "And know a lot of fellow assassins, but I've never seen a kill that quick. In fact, I didn't even see it." He paused, watching Carter closely as she continued to stare at the ground. "How did you do it?" He asked quietly, his tone turning serious.

"I don't…" Carter struggled with the words, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to find an acceptable answer. "I don't really know. I don't think about it, I just act…react. It's all instinct. I've never really been able to…I've never really tried to control it."

"But…if you look back," Clint pressed her. "What do you see?"

* * *

_A man holding me against the wall. His grip is focused on my neck, one arm, he doesn't think I could break loose. I bring my fist down, hard, snapping the bone as soon as it comes in contact. He lurches forward, bending over in pain, one arm cradling the other. One of my hands grabs his chin, the other the nape of his neck. I twist, shredding the bones easily as the neck turns farther than it's meant to. I hear something flying through the air, reaching a hand out to catch the arrow heading for me. I hear more, the men surrounding me are dead. I fall back against the cold hard wall, slumping to the ground, crushing the arrow in my fist and dropping the shards to the cement._

* * *

"Carter?"

"It was so fast," she whispered. "I don't even remember when the gun went off. I just…I broke his arm, to make him let go, then snapped his neck when he stumbled towards me. Your arrow…I caught it." Opening her fist, Carter finally saw the deep cuts that marred her palm. The broken arrow had pierced and torn her skin as she crushed it, but she hadn't noticed. "I didn't even feel it," she gasped.

Clint took her hand in his, examining the gashes closely. They were deep, and would leave scars, but they hadn't bled very much.

"Hang on," he said, dropping her hand. "Lemme get a cloth or something."

Carter nodded as Clint stood, leaving her alone once more. She traced the cuts with her fingertips, prodding the open flesh. She could feel the pain now, but only when she concentrated on it. All these years and she had never noticed something like this. In fact, now that she thought about it, since her escape eighteen years ago, Carter had never felt pain at all. Even during that gang fight. She had ended up in hospital, she was injured, but she wasn't hurt.

"Still so much I don't know," she whispered with a sigh. Looking up, Clint approached her, holding a wet flannel in one hand, a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the other.

"This will probably sting," he warned her, sitting back down and unscrewing the lid.

"No," Carter replied, with a small smile. "I don't think it will."

* * *

Carter's breathing had evened out, Clint noticed. She had fallen asleep. He didn't really blame her, it had been one hell of a night. But her escort would be here soon, and Clint wasn't sure how Fury would react when informed his prisoner was napping on Agent Barton's couch.

"Carter," he whispered, giving her a gentle shake. "Carter, wake up."

"M'awake," she mumbled, burying her head deeper into the couch cushions.

"No, you're not," he replied, shaking her a bit harder this time. "Come on, get up."

"They here yet?" Came a smothered reply, Carter curling up into a ball.

"They'll be here soon."

"But not now?"

"Carter!"

"Alright, alright," she sighed, stretching out again. "I'm up." Clint groaned, dropping down onto the couch beside her, head in his hands.

"This is _not_ in my job description," he muttered. His ears pricked up at the sound of an engine. "They're here, thank God." Striding to the window, he peered through the gap in the thin curtain, watching as a man in a suit, and two men in Kevlar exited the vehicle that had just pulled up. "They sent Coulson?" Clint mumbled to himself. "Not really his department." Then again, he thought, this whole thing hadn't been his either. Fury must really want this girl to send two of his best agents on the job.

Turning from the window, Clint glanced at Carter, who was now sitting straight, tense and wary.

"It's gonna be okay," he assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he passed. "Coulson's not a scary guy." Reaching the door, he flicked the latch off, opening it in time to see Coulson arrive at the top of the stairs, heavies in tow.

"Agent Barton," he said in way of greeting.

"Agent Coulson," Clint replied with a curt nod.

"Where is she?" Coulson asked. Clint indicated over his shoulder to Carter's form on the couch. Coulson stepped around him, approaching the girl with confidence. "Miss Thomas?" He questioned, holding his badge up to her. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. I'll be overseeing your relocation to the States. You will restrained as precaution until we arrive at head quarters. As long as you cooperate this mission will go smoothly and swiftly."

Carter frowned at the man in the suit, looking between him and Clint.

"He's very formal," she said to Clint, climbing to her feet.

"I'm just more of a professional than Agent Barton here," Coulson replied before Clint had a chance. "If you would please hold out your hands?"

Carter rolled up the sleeves of Clint's shirt, and did as she was asked. One of the security men fastened a rather sturdy set of handcuffs around her wrists, clicking them shut tightly. Clint watched Carter's calm expression with curiosity, wondering if she could break through those handcuffs if she tried.

He had a feeling she could.


	8. Chapter Seven First Time

**Glad to have gotten this one done, I finally get to bring Carter to Fury. Just wanted to let you know, I'm planning on changing the category for this. It really should have been in the Avengers to begin with, but I didn't know there was one. Most Hawkeye stories came under Thor because of his cameo, but this doesn't take place there.**

**Also, **KawaiiHawaiian**, in reply to your comment, the Loki story pairing would be an original character again, and take place on Asgard. I haven't solidified all the details, but she wouldn't be from Earth. There are so many Loki stories that take place on Earth, I wanna do something a little different.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and I love reading all your reviews.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Seven - First Time

Carter had never been in an aeroplane before. She had seen them on television, but actually flying…she didn't expect it to be so quiet. And smooth. It didn't even feel like they were moving. Her fingertips curled around the bottom of the window pane, grasping tightly as she peered out in wonder. White as far as the eye could see until it met a line of blue, then a vast sea of sky stretching above them. It was never ending.

"Whoa," she mouthed, leaning back in her seat and facing Agent Coulson sitting opposite.

"First time?" He asked, not bothering to look up from his touch screen tablet. "The novelty wears off pretty quick, trust me."

"Can I?" Carter asked hesitantly. "Trust you, I mean." Coulson raised his eyebrows, his eyes flickering up to meet hers.

"We're the good guys, Miss Thomas," he replied gently. "It might not seem that way right now, but this is for your own good." Carter made a "hmph" sounding noise, and Coulson returned to the files he was reading through.

On the other side of the aisle, Clint was reading the same files on his own tablet, glancing over at Carter every so often. He had seen the look of amazement as she stared out the window, and couldn't help but smile at the childlike naivety of it. He had been watching this woman for a few weeks now, but he'd never seen that particular expression before. It was cute, and it made him remember just how young she was.

The two security guards that had accompanied Coulson were standing at either side of the door through to the cockpit, guns at their sides. Carter hadn't resisted or made any attempts to escape, but they still stood ready and waiting. It angered Clint for some reason. They could trust her, they didn't need to treat her like a criminal. But there was nothing he could do, he had to remind himself. It'd be over soon anyway. Once they arrive, and get Carter to a safe place, she'll be uncuffed and unguarded.

Or so Fury said. He was a good man, and trustworthy enough, but sometimes, Clint had to admit, Fury would say whatever he had to just to get things going his way. Even if it was a lie. There was always a possibility that he was planning to keep Carter locked up, but Clint was sure he could convince him otherwise.

_I shouldn't even care,_ he found himself thinking, not for the first time. _Carter is just a mark, once she's contained, she's nothing more to do with me._ He told himself over and over, but still…he didn't quite believe it somehow. _I've never had a mark I didn't kill. I don't know how to shadow someone and not…become __**attached. **_He had invested so much time in Carter, and had even gotten to know her. _She's not a criminal, she's not a threat. She's just…she's scared._

Looking over at her now, it was painful how true that last statement was. She was tense, jumpy, her eyes darting about as Coulson cleared his throat, or a security guard coughed. Her fists were clenched so tight, her knuckles were white, and her hands jittery. Clint's gaze travelled back to the file in his hands. More new information on Carter Thomas. A young girl, seventeen years ago, fitting Carter's description at the time, was handed in to local authorities in Chicago for shoplifting. She was malnourished and ill, but refused to give a name. An official photograph had been released in an attempt to contact anyone who knew her. Sliding his finger along the screen, Clint maximized the picture.

Her face was gaunt, deathly pale, and her eyes sunken and glazed. Her hair, still black, was short, sticking to her face in stringy tendrils. The muscles in her neck stuck out harshly against the paper thin skin, a hospital gown drowning her sickly frame.

It was reported that a man had contacted the authorities, claiming to know the girl, though allegedly refusing to state how. With no other leads, the police allowed the man to visit Carter in hospital. She had remained unresponsive through out, eyes unseeing, but an hour after the man left, Carter had fled the hospital, injuring half a dozen people in the process. The report ended with a transcript of the telephone call from the man who had claimed to recognise her.

"_Hello? I'm calling about the girl on the posters in town?…Yes, I think I know her…. I'm sorry, I can't say... No, it's…what? Yes, it's classified. I cannot share the details... Should she…yes, she should know me. I…I believe she would recognise me...Quite, quite some time now…Her name? Her name?….what do I…no, I…I don't know it…I know, it sounds strange, but I, there are so many-…no, I-…I'm sorry, but-…can I ask where she is being held? But I know her, I-…very well, but please, if you could-…contact me, yes. My name?…what…no, they want my…I am Frank Hills…yes, please do, I really need it-her, her back…good day, sir."_

Clint rubbed his face, trying to take the information in. This "_Frank Hills" _sounded like one hell of a shady character. A search into him had turned up nothing of interest, leading S.H.I.E.L.D. to believe it was a fake name.

"Carter," Clint called over, jolting her out of her daydream. She looked over to him. "Do you know a Frank Hi-"

"Agent Barton," Coulson cut him off. "I don't believe we should be questioning Miss Thomas until we arrive, don't you?" Clint sighed, sinking in his seat.

"Whatever," he muttered. "Sorry, Carter, never mind." Carter frowned at him, clearly thinking hard.

"Well, for what it's worth," she began. "I don't know a Frank Hi."

"Miss Thomas," Coulson spoke up, once again beating Clint to the punch. "We will discuss this, in detail, at a more convenient time." Giving Clint a stern look, Coulson returned to the files, and Carter went back to looking out the window. Clint gave another sigh, closing down the files and starting up a game of Solitaire.

* * *

The aeroplane landed with a light thud, waking Carter from a deep sleep. Her neck was stiff as she rolled it back and forth, yawning loudly. Attempting to stretch her arms out, her handcuffs rattled, pinching the skin around her wrists.

"Oww," she groaned, lowering her arms back down. She looked over at Coulson, who was already preparing to disembark. "When do I get these off?" She asked, jangling the cuffs to get his attention.

"Not quite yet, I'm afraid," Coulson replied offhandedly. Carter frowned.

"Come on," Clint said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Time to go." Carter nodded, still unhappy with Coulson's reply. She stood slowly, looking out the window at the darkening sky. She couldn't see much, and instead let Clint lead her off the plane and onto a small runway.

There was another black van, like the one that had collected her from Clint's apartment, waiting for them, the driver standing beside an open door. Carter watched as Coulson climbed inside, the driver closing the door behind him. Clint pulled another door open for her, as she carefully sat inside, having slight trouble manoeuvring with bound hands. He climbed in beside her, closing the door tight. Coulson hit a button, and Carter heard the telltale sound of the doors locking.

_As if that would stop me_, she thought to herself, with a smile.

"Where are we going now," she instead asked, the tinted windows preventing her from admiring the scenery. "We're still not there yet?"

"Not long now," Clint replied, one hand on the door handle. "Ten minutes."

"Then what happens to me?"

Clint glanced over at Coulson. Neither of them knew what Fury was planning to do with her.

"Clint?"

"I don't know," he finally said, turning back to her. "That's not part of my mission, I've just to bring you in."

"Then what?" She pressed. "You leave?"

"I don't know, Carter," Clint sighed. "Probably. I'll get another mission. Hopefully one more up my street."

"Like killing?"

"Yeah…like killing."

Agent Coulson listened to their conversation with interest. It seemed that Barton had told Carter a little about himself, which he found surprising. Barton had always kept himself to himself. Fury must've had his reasons for choosing him for the mission with Carter, but Coulson couldn't help but think it had been a bad call. Someone like Agent Romanov was a more obvious choice; she was a master of subterfuge, and blended in to any environment easily. More to the point, she was experienced in the field of covert operations, Barton was a straight up assassin. It still didn't make sense.

Carter stared out the window at the hidden view. As the car raced towards it's destination, she felt a knot building up in the pit of her stomach. But she ignored it. She was going to meet this Fury, and make sure he understood once and for all. She had no plans to hurt anyone, or kill anything, all she wanted to do was live a free life.

And if he refused to understand…well, all the handcuffs and locked doors in the world wouldn't be able to hold her.


	9. Chapter Eight The Other Side Of The Plot

As If I Was Human

Chapter Eight - The Other Side Of The Plot

The compound of S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ was much bigger than Carter had anticipated. The sun had completely gone down by the time they had arrived, harsh floodlights greeting them as they exited the car. Shielding her eyes with her still-bound hands, Carter tried to take in as much as she could while Coulson lead her towards the entrance. The buildings themselves weren't especially tall, but seemed to stretch on forever.

"This is S.H.I.E.L.D. Central," Clint suddenly whispered in her air, placing his hand on the small of her lower back. "We have bases all over the world, but this is the biggest."

"And what do you do here?" Carter whispered back, shifting closer to him. "Apart from kill people." Clint couldn't help but laugh softly at that.

"We tend not to kill them here," he replied with a smirk. "This is where we…watch, plan and keep our secret projects."

"Like what?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a secret, would it?"

"No," Carter admitted. "But I wouldn't tell anyone else." Clint chuckled again, stepping away from Carter as he noticed Fury waiting for them at the door.

"Agent Barton," he greeted, his voice serious.

"Director Fury," Clint replied with a slight nod. Carter looked between the two of them, before really giving this **Fury** a once over.

The first thing she took in was the eye patch. The second, he was tall. The third, he wore _a lot_ of black. All in all, he looked the picture of the leader of a secret organization.

"Carter Thomas," he said, both arms held behind his back. "Director Nick Fury. We've been expecting you."

"Yeah, I figured someone would have phoned ahead," Carter retorted, unable to hide the annoyance in her voice. She held up her handcuffed wrists, eyebrows raised. "Do I get these off yet?"

"No," came the curt reply. "Agent Barton's report stated that you were extremely dangerous-"

"Only when provoked," Clint interrupted quickly.

"Still," Fury continued. "You will remain restrained for now. Come." With that, he turned and entered the building, Carter, Coulson and Clint following behind.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Central was a maze of corridors, each turn ensuring Carter became more and more lost. Even if she had the inclination to escape, she wasn't sure she'd find her way back out. And that was before they headed down. A large elevator plummeted them into the earth, taking them deep underground. Becoming uneasy, Carter glanced over at Fury, trying to read him. His face wasn't giving anything away.

Soon enough, the elevator doors shot open, and Fury led the way once more. Looking around, Carter decided this room was some sort of command centre. It was very open, screens and computers littering every corner, nook and cranny. But it didn't seem to be their destination. Fury kept walking, and she kept following.

Down again, but this time taking the stairs, only descending a couple of flights before heading through another long corridor, doors on either side. It was at this point, with a frown on his face, Clint spoke up.

"Director?" He asked, the look on his face suggesting he knew where they were headed, and not happy about it. "My report-"

"I read your report, Barton," Fury replied shortly. "But this is necessary."

"What's necessary?" Carter asked, stopping in her tracks. "Where are we going?"

Fury stilled as well, turning to face her.

"No harm will come to you," he said sternly. "You have my word."

"I don't know what your words are worth," Carter spat. "But I can tell you're avoiding the question. Clint-" She turned to him. "-where is he taking me?" Clint simply shook in head. He was too emotionally invested in this girl, that was already clear to both Fury and Coulson, he couldn't comfort her in front of them. There was nothing he could do.

"We have a room arranged for you-"

"Underground!" Carter cut Fury off angrily. "Look," she said, stepping up to Fury and poking him in the chest. "I have complied. I have cooperated. I let you _restrain_ me, under the promise I would be released upon arrival-"

"And we have yet to arrive," Fury replied, raising his voice. "I don't think you understand your situation here, Miss Thomas. You are in my custody, you are a prisoner, and you will only be released **if** you continue to cooperate. You have Agent Barton's field report to thank for that."

"I was attacked-"

"I am aware of the circumstances, Miss Thomas. I am also aware of your history, you will hurt or kill whoever you have to to get what you want-"

"It's not like that!"

"And you will be given a chance to explain," Fury continued. "_But only if you continue to cooperate!_"

Carter stepped back, breathing heavily, fists clenched. Unable to stop himself, Clint grasped her shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he said gently, squeezing her shoulder. "Let's just get this over with." Carter glared up at him, her eyes still angry.

"What did you tell them about me?" She demanded of him. Clint could only sigh.

"The truth," he replied.

"Enough," Fury stated, placing a hand on his forehead and sighing heavily. He gave Clint a stern look, and finally continued down the corridor.

"I told you," Coulson spoke up, having remained silent thus far. "We're the good guys, Miss Thomas. We're only doing what we have to." That said, he followed Fury.

"Come on," Clint muttered, releasing Carter's shoulder. Carter nodded, and the two of them set off after Fury and Coulson.

* * *

Dr Bruce Banner was exhausted. There was a lot of illness in Calcutta, and without proper medicine, there wasn't much he could do to help. Still, he passed the majority of his days tending to the sickly, doing what little he could to ease their pain

He crossed the final street leading to his current home, the sight of it warming his weary heart. It was all he could do not to fall asleep in the middle of the street. He stepped up to the door, pushing it open with a small smile. Slipping inside, he closed the door behind him, striding over to his armchair and collapsing in it. It had been a particularly long day, words couldn't describe how glad he was to finally get a chance to rest.

He had just gotten comfortable, his eyes falling closed, when he released he wasn't alone.

"Dr Banner," the woman in front of him spoke, her voice soft and delicate. Bruce took in her appearance. She was beautiful, short red hair, and clearly not local.

"Natasha," he replied, his body suddenly very tense. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents never brought good news.

"How have you been?" Agent Romanov asked, taking a seat at the rickety dining table he ate at. "Didn't take you long to get back to work."

"At least I know I'm doing some good here," Bruce stated, Natasha aware of his attempt at penance. "Why are you here?" He then asked, too tired to beat around the bush.

"Straight to the point," Natasha quipped, smiling.

"It's been a long day," he explained, rubbing his eyes. "What do S.H.I.E.L.D. want me for now?"

"It's more of an offer this time," Natasha replied, her face turning serious. "We've got someone in custody that we've been after for a long time."

"And what does that have to do with me?" Bruce asked tiredly, almost dreading the answer.

"Not a lot," Natasha admitted. "But we thought you'd be interested. You knew Zack Thomas, didn't you?"

Bruce sat up straight, his breath catching in his chest at the name.

"I did," he said carefully. "He's been dead…twenty years now."

"We know," Natasha replied. "But were you aware he had a daughter?"

Bruce's heart jumped as he shot to his feet, eyes wide.

"Carter Thomas," Natasha continued. " And we've found her."


	10. Chapter Nine Bombshell

**Tried to keep Bruce's explanation as simple as possible, hope I did a good enough job. **

**Jay X  
**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Nine - Bombshell

Carter was pacing angrily when Clint finally came to visit her. It had 48 hours since she had arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. Central. Clint had gotten several debriefings, and even a scolding from Director Fury for his attitude, but had only just been granted clearance to see her.

Her "room", if it could be called that, wasn't much more than four walls and a narrow bed, with a small connecting bathroom. Carter thought of it more as a "cell". She was no longer handcuffed, but she wasn't allowed to leave. Four times day a woman in uniform, flanked by two security men, would deliver her food appropriate to whatever time of day it was. No windows, no books, no television, no way to pass the time and stay sane.

Clint was all Carter thought about. She had let him bring her here, all because of Curt the Writer. She had trusted Curt the Writer. He was always friendly, always smirking, always ordered the same lunch. Carter dreamed of Curt, and woke up to Clint. So when the man himself finally came to see her, she had had enough of him.

"Whoa!" He chuckled, his fast reflexes enabling him to catch the apple core lobbed at his head. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Two days!" Carter yelled, throwing the leftover crusts from her toast at him. "I've been locked in here for two freaking days! And you're laughing? I could kill you!"

"Hey, hey," Clint hushed her, dropping the apple core and crusts back onto her dinner tray as he moved towards her. "I'm sorry, I've been trying to get clearance ever since we got here, it just takes time."

"Two days!" Carter repeated, dropping to the edge of her bed, arms crossed angrily over her chest. "You said I wouldn't be locked up, and I have…for two-"

"Two days, yeah, yeah," Clint cut her off, sitting down next to her. "I'm sorry, but Fury runs this joint, not me, I don't really get much of a say." Carter sighed, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"That report of yours," she began. "You told them I'm dangerous."

"You are," Clint replied. "You know you are."

"I'm not," Carter insisted, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "You sent men to attack me, to test me, if you hadn't done that…none of them would have died. **You're **the dangerous one."

"My report said you were only dangerous when provoked," Clint explained. "Fury's just…being cautious. And that-" Clint gestured to one of the walls, dents littering the surface where Carter had been punching it furiously. "-isn't helping."

"I'm angry," she stated, standing up abruptly. "And can you blame me? You lied to me! You pretended to be a normal guy just so you could spy on me!"

"It's just my job, Carter," Clint said wearily. "You can't take it personally."

"I'll take it however I like," she muttered, folding her arms again. The two fell silent for a moment before Carter spoke up again. "Why are you even here?"

"I wanted to see you," Clint replied with a shrug. "Make sure you're okay. Fury's expecting a visitor to arrive later today, something to do with you, he wanted me to assess your mood."

"And what have you assessed?"

"You're pissed off," Clint smirked. "And I guess you have a good reason, but you'll need to calm down when the doctor gets here."

Doctor. Carter froze. Doctor. Not a doctor.

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head, her hands flying up to cover her ears. "No, no doctors, not a doctor. I won't…I can't."

"Carter?" Clint asked, approaching her carefully. He glanced up at the security camera, giving a nod to Agent Hill on the other side. "Carter," he replied, returning his attention to her. "What's wrong?"

"No doctors," she said, her body beginning to tremble. She wrapped her arms around her torso, falling to her knees. "I don't want a doctor, I don't need a doctor. No, no, no."

The door flew open, two men with guns, and a man with a needle entering. Clint held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. Carter hadn't even noticed.

"Why?" He asked her, crouching down next to her. "Carter, tell me why you don't want to see the doctor."

"The… the tubes," she whispered, her eyes tearing. "The machines, sucking and pulling the life from me. I don't…I can't…Clint," she looked up at him, her fear making his heart pound painfully. "Don't let them. Please, don't let them."

"It's okay," he whispered, taking hold of her shoulders. "I won't let them." He didn't really know what he was promising, but he meant every word. "I swear, they won't hurt you." His heart jumped when Carter suddenly flung her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. He instinctively pulled her closer, holding her tight.

His face masking all the emotions bubbling under the surface, he beckoned the man with the needle closer, taking the needle from him and plunging it into Carter's neck. She gasped, trying to pull away.

"Clint-"

"It'll be alright," he said, still holding her close. "Just go to sleep. I'll take care of the doctor."

"Clint…" Carter's voice began to slur, her eyes falling shut as she slumped against him. With a heavy heart, Clint swung her into his arms, lifting her tiny frame easily. The three men left, seeing their prisoner out cold, and Clint carried her over to her bed, laying her down gently. He sighed, brushing her hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, so quiet the cameras couldn't hear him. "But you're dangerous, Carter. I don't think you realise just how dangerous." He rested his palm against her cheek, before turning to leave.

Agent Maria Hill was standing in the doorway, waiting for him.

"Agent Barton," she began, her face grim. "You didn't have authorisation to inform Miss Thomas about Doctor Banner's arrival. Director Fury requests your presence in his office."

"Whatever," Clint sighed, exiting Carter's cell, the door automatically sealing behind him. "Can't imagine it'll be any worse than what just happened."

"You did the right thing," Maria said, her face softening. "She needed to be tranquilised before she hurt someone."

"Maybe," Clint muttered. Maria placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked past, stilling him.

"Clint," she said quietly. "She'll…I'm sure she'll understand." Clint simply shrugged.

"Maybe," he repeated.

* * *

"What can you tell me about her?" Was Bruce's first question, once the compulsory greeting were over.

"First," Fury said. "What can you tell me about her father?"

The two were sitting in Fury's personal office, Bruce having just arrived at the compound with Natasha. Fury had seen him straight away, which alerted Bruce to the urgency of the situation. Fury was a man who kept lesser men waiting, but not today.

"It's…complicated," Bruce started, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm a smart man, Dr Banner," Fury drawled. "I'm sure I can keep up."

"With Zack, her father, genetic alterations were made," Bruce began, trying to avoid the scientific jargon that would cause confusion. "It was another attempt at the Super Soldier programme, to begin with. Nanotechnology was substituted for gamma radiation, rewriting parts of the genetic code to enable…growth."

"What kind of growth?"

"Every kind. Muscle, intelligence, stamina, durability. All the traits needed in a Super Soldier. But for all the work put into him, Zack's body never showed any signs of change. Despite the readings, telling the team it had worked, his capacity never increased. He couldn't bench press any heavier, run any faster or heal any quicker. It didn't make sense. It was in his genetic code, but not his physical output."

"What happened to him?" Fury asked, leaning back in his chair as he took all this information in.

"One day he fled," Bruce shrugged. "It was thought he simply grew tired of the torture all these modifications caused, he had had enough. But looking back, the dates match, it must have been because he discovered his wife was pregnant."

"My thoughts exactly," Fury agreed. "Genetic mods would run in the family, wouldn't they?"

"Yes," Bruce nodded. "Though I have no idea to what extent."

"You knew Zack Thomas," Fury stated. "How?"

"I was an intern at the lab," Bruce explained. "Though the experiments were predetermined not to include any kind of gamma radiation, Zack's failure to show any developments made the team reconsider. With Captain America, it was a serum accelerated by gamma, perhaps Zack needed a similar push. I was assigned to him for a character study, it was important to test his mental health before exposing him to the radiation, but his escape came before the team had a chance to use it."

"Did you know him well?"

"A few weeks, but…well enough, I say," Bruce sighed. "All he wanted was to protect his wife. He was a good man, but in a lot of pain." Shaking his head at the memory, Bruce sighed again. "Now, his daughter, Carter," he said. "I want to meet her."

"Soon," Fury stated, rising from his seat. "First, Agent Barton will brief you on her. But be warned doctor, she isn't looking forward to meeting you."

"Does she know about me?" Bruce asked with a nervous grin.

"Not yet," Fury replied, leading Bruce from the room. "I figured I'd let you drop that particular bombshell."

"Oh," Bruce frowned. "Thanks."


	11. Chapter Ten Another New Player

**Unexpected boughts of babysitting caused the delay here. Also, just couldn't find the right words. Sorry if this one sucks, but it was taking me so long to write, I decided just to leave it as it is. Got another little twist in here, but I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of you saw it coming; I dropped a few hints in previous chapters.**

**Jay X  
**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Ten - Another New Player

Natasha couldn't help but smile at the sight of her fellow agent as he sat at the table in his room, head propped up on his elbows as he scowled. She had yet to meet the infamous Carter Thomas, but word had spread fast about Clint's run in with her that afternoon. Upsetting her, then drugging her, no wonder he was in such a mood.

"Come on," Natasha said by way of greeting, leaning against the doorframe. "You've done worse." Clint sighed heavily, looking up at her.

"She was beginning to trust me, Tash," he muttered. "And then I-"

"Did your job," Natasha cut him off. "Keeping her happy isn't part of that."

"I know, but-"

"You were to bring her in, you brought her in," she continued. "Just leave it at that."

"I can't, Tash," Clint insisted, scraping his chair back to stand. "She's…she's counting on me. I have to help her."

"Why?"

"It's the right thing to do." Clint began to pace back and forth. "I know you don't give a damn about this kind of thing, but I do." Natasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I guess if you're back, that means Banner's here."

"He's with the director," Natasha confirmed. "You're wanted. Fury expects you to brief him on Carter."

"Fantastic," Clint muttered, running his hands through his short hair. "May as well get it over with."

* * *

Bruce glanced over at Carter's unconscious form once more, letting the screen in front of him run through some algorithms on it's own. He couldn't believe how alike her father she was. Her hair had been dyed blonde, but the natural roots had begun to grow back in, showing the same shade of black Zack's hair had been. Even resting, her face held the same expressions Zack's had, her lips and nose were his, even her long thin fingers were the same as his. It was uncanny.

The conversation Bruce had had with Agent Barton was still fresh in his mind. Clint hadn't known Carter long, but he knew what to watch for. The one point he kept stressing was that she was **only dangerous when provoked**. Yeah well, Bruce had thought, so am I, but once I _am_ provoked…He shook his head; that sentence wasn't worth finishing.

The tranquiliser had worn off, and Carter was beginning to wake up. Bruce closed over his laptop, sitting down in the armchair opposite Carter's bed, watching her as she stirred, groaning. Lifting a head to her forehead, her eyes finally opened, weary and dilated.

"Carter," Bruce said quietly, leaning forward in his seat. Carter started at the sound of his voice, jerking up in her bed.

"Who are you?" She demanded, eyes wide, scrambling to her feet.

"It's okay," he assured her. "I'm…I knew your father-"

"You're the doctor," she accused him, fists clenching. "Clint said they were bringing in a doctor."

"Yes, I'm a doctor," Bruce admitted, holding his hand up. "But not that kind of doctor. Listen to me, just for a moment. Clint told me about-"

"Clint can go to hell!" Carter snapped. She had had enough of Clint Barton.

"-what was done to you," Bruce persevered. "I'm not part of that. Fury just wants me to examine you. Like I said, I knew your father."

"Well, that makes one of us," Carter muttered, sitting down on the bed behind her. She breathed deeply, watching this _doctor_ carefully. He wasn't dressed like the men she remembered, and he didn't look at her like they did. "Who are you?"

"My name is Bruce," he said, sighing in relief; she seemed be calming slightly, but that could just be an after effect of the drugs. "I work…worked in gamma radiation."

"And you knew my dad?"

"Yeah," Bruce nodded, waiting for the next question.

"From…the programme?" There it was. Bruce sighed.

"Yeah," he repeated. "But I wasn't part of the team that…_worked_ on him. I had nothing to do with any of that, I was just an intern at the time. I did a profile on him, assessing his mental health."

"And…that's what you want to do to me?" Carter asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

"Fury just wants to know that you're…" Bruce pursed his lips, pausing for a moment. "That you're in control of it." He finished, finding the sentence somewhat ironic coming from him.

"Of course I'm-"

"Dr Banner?" Carter and Bruce both turned to the door as Agent Coulson entered the room. "Sorry to interrupt, but the lab is ready. I'll be escorting you both down."

"Great, thanks," Bruce replied offhandedly, picking up his laptop and tucking it under his arm.

"No," Carter argued. "Not great, not thanks. A lab? What…what do you need a lab for?"

"It's just for research," Bruce explained. "My current analysis is showing signs of static energy in sync with your resting heart rate. I want to run some aptitude and endurance tests on you, and see if the energy builds or dissipates with outward stimuli. Don't worry," he then added, with a small smile. "No needles or tubes." Carter scowled at that.

"Stupid Clint," she cursed, following Bruce and Coulson out of the room.

* * *

"I'm not mad, I'm just saying," Tony Stark pointed out, holding both hands up in innocence. "If you're researching nanotechnology, you should have come to me, I've got my own little project going on."

"Yes," Fury stated, arms crossed over his chest as Iron Man spun in _his _chair, behind _his _desk, in _his _office. "We're aware of that."

"And Zack Thomas?" Tony continued, now picking up a pen and twirling it between his fingers. "He was just the latest in a series of experiments the N-GES goons attempted. Yeah, a soldier, through and through, but in the end, just another victim."

"And N-GES?" Fury prompted. "They still have a base of operations?"

"Hang on," Tony deadpanned. "Is that something you're _not_ aware of. Oh, Nick, you're getting sloppy."

"Mr Stark."

"Of course they're still at it," Tony continued, growing bored of the pen and substituting it for his sidekick. "Here," he muttered, his thumbs typing and sliding away at it. "Uploading the latest info to your servers. Could I get a drink? Scotch on the rocks? No?" He said, seeing Fury's frown. "You're right," he nodded. "Drinking at work, what am I thinking? How about I go get myself a little something while your lot go through these files and I'll meet back here at say…oh-four-hundred?"

"Four in the morning?" Fury asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, no," Tony admitted, slipping his sidekick back in his pocket and standing up. "Just trying out the army lingo. Don't look so serious, Nick," he then suggested. "Give me a call when you wanna talk nanotech, until then, stop wading into my world behind my back." He slapped Fury on the chest as he walked by. "You need me on this."

"What I _need is _you to take this seriously, Tony," Fury called after him. "Shit's about to hit the fan, we need to be prepared."

"Read those files," Tony replied, walking backwards as he turned to Fury. "Then we'll talk."


	12. Chapter Eleven Secrets

**It's strange, my favourite parts of this story to write are the boring scientific explanations that probably don't even make sense in the real world. **

**Jay X  
**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Eleven - Secrets

Carter flumped down onto her bed, face first, with a massive sigh. She had never been so exhausted. Bruce's tests had been incredibly vigorous, both physically and mentally draining. Carter had lifted weights, ran miles, taken blows, dodged bullets, and then ran a course involving all of the tests one after another. After all that, Bruce then proceeded to run some sort of scanner over her body, muttering something about static. Carter had nearly collapsed then and there, but it still wasn't over. Fitting her with an electronic visor, Bruce then ran her through a simulator, sending wave after wave of obstacles her way, recording the results as she mentally overcame them.

Finally, after hours and hours, he let her go. And here she was, verging on unconscious, sprawled across her bed. Which is exactly when Clint showed up.

"Carter?" He asked, peering round the door.

"Piss off," came a rather muffled reply, Carter's face pressed into her pillows. "I'm still mad at you."

"Yeah, I know," Clint sighed, entering the cell, the door locking behind him. "I just wanted to…explain, I guess. Can we talk?"

"You can talk," Carter mumbled, Clint's ears straining to make out the words. "I won't be listening though."

"Carter, come on," Clint pleaded, sitting down next to her form on the edge of the bed. "Just hear me out. Please?" Carter groaned loudly, rolling onto her back wearily.

"Clint, I'm tired," she said. "Really, properly exhausted. Make it quick." Clint nodded with a sigh.

"Look," he began. "My job was to bring you in, not to be your friend-"

"Then why did you pretend to be?" Carter interrupted.

"I wasn't pretending," Clint answered quietly. "I like you, I just…the job comes first, you know. And earlier, with the drugs…I couldn't risk you hurting someone. I'm sorry it happened like that, but I had to-"

"Stab me in the back," once again Carter cut him off. "Sorry, neck."

"You're not making this easy, Carter," Clint groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"Good," she retorted angrily. "It shouldn't be easy. I thought I could trust you. You said I wouldn't get locked up-"

"That was Fury, not me."

"-and look around you. You said if I cooperated-"

"Once again; Fury."

"-I'd be treated fair, have another look around. You said…" Carter trailed off, biting her lower lip as she stared at the ceiling. "You said it'd be alright, that it'd be okay. It's not, Clint. Nothing is okay."

"It'll get better," Clint insisted, reaching out to grasp Carter's hand. He squeezed it tight. "I swear, Carter, I know this sucks, but you have to give it time. Besides," he then said, watching Carter's expressions closely. "It's not S.H.I.E.L.D. you've been running from all these years. Maybe, just maybe, you're safer here." Carter's eyes flickered up to him. She pulled her hand out of his, sitting upright.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. can't save me," she said quietly, remorsefully. "I've always known, always, N-GES _will_ find me. S.H.I.E.L.D.'S just a stepping stone to them. When they come for me, and they will, Clint, I swear they will, nothing Fury can do will save me."

"Then _I'll _save you."

He sounded so sure, Carter thought. Before she realised it, she was leaning over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close.

"I'll save you, Carter," he repeated, burying his face in her hair. "I swear, I'll save you." Carter just hugged him tighter.

_You can't, _she thought to herself, closing her eyes as she began to drift off in his arms, the gentle rhythm of his breathing soothing her. _But, thank you, Clint._

* * *

"How's it going, doctor?" Bruce smiled, hardly surprised at the appearance of Tony Stark in his lab. "The girl as interesting as they're saying?"

"You know it," Bruce replied, still pouring over the test results from his day with Carter.

"Ah," Tony said, pulling open a packet of blueberries and tossing a few into his mouth. "But is she as cute as they're saying?" Bruce chuckled, shaking his head.

"A little young for me," he replied, accepting some berries as Tony held the packet out to him. "And a little young for you too," he then added with a smile.

"I've got Pepper," Tony shrugged. "I was jut curious; I hear the hawk has the hots for her."

"I hear the same," Bruce agreed. "But I have a feeling it's a little more complicated than that. I can't imagine Director Fury would approve."

"Didn't stop Barton and Romanov before," Tony pointed out, causing Bruce to choke on his food. "Oh, you didn't know. Yeah, they went at it like-"

"Tony," came a stern voice from behind them. Both men whipped round to see Natasha herself standing in the door way, her arms folded across her chest.

"Tash!" Tony greeted her. "We were **just **talking about you. Tell me, how did Fury react when you and Clint-"

"Stop it," Natasha warned him. Tony wasn't deterred so easily.

"I'm just wondering," he pressed on. "You see, Clint's crushing on the new kid, and I'm rooting for him, really, I am, but if he's gonna get his heartbroken…well, I'd just **hate **to see it."

"Enough," Natasha said, closing the subject. "Doctor Banner," she then said, stepping over to Bruce. "The director wants to know if he can expect a report on Miss Thomas tonight." Bruce shook his head, sliding his glasses from his face.

"Not tonight," he admitted. "It's going to take at least a few hours just to make sense of the data, not to mention cross referencing it with the files on her father. It'll take a couple of days at least."

"What kind of readings did you get?" Tony asked, suddenly becoming interested in the science. He walked over to the wall terminal, tapping away on the keypad as he read through the screens. "Static interference," he murmured. "That's fascinating. The nanotech itself wouldn't have been passed on, but the altered DNA clearly was."

"Her bloodstream seems to hold a static charge," Bruce explained to Natasha. "A simple by-product of her father's nanotechnology, but-"

"It could be harnessed," Tony finished, his eyes excited as he skimmed through the data in front of him. "This is brilliant," he continued, looking over at Bruce. "She might even be able to-"

"Power something," Bruce agreed, nodding. "Like your arc reactor. Nowhere near as powerful though," he admitted, tapping the light on Tony's chest. "But still…"

"It could be useful," Tony nodded. "It could be dangerous." He stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, rereading the information in front of him. "She doesn't know, does she?" He then mused. Bruce shook his head.

"How can she not know?" Natasha asked, leaning her back against the desk as Bruce tried to explain.

"Her files say she escaped from N-GES-"

"N-GES," Natasha questioned, frowning.

"Next Generation Experimental Soldiers," Tony filled in. "A bunch of mad scientists trying to recreate the Super Soldier Programme."

"She escaped when she was five or six," Bruce continued. "Too young, I think, to fully understand what they wanted with her. All she seems to know is that it's her blood they were interested in, not her capabilities, but not why."

"Does Fury plan on letting her know?" Tony asked, looking over to Bruce.

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "He still hasn't told me what he wants with her."

"He hasn't told anyone," Natasha said, pursing her lips in thought. "And he's yet to explain why it was Clint he sent to bring her in."

"Our beloved Director is full of secrets," Tony grinned, pulling out his sidekick. "Luckily, I remember just how to get a hold of them." Bruce smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he slid on his glasses. Natasha rolled her eyes, leaving the two men to it. "I'm taking your silence as an agreement!" Tony called after her. "Don't worry, Natasha, I'll get to the bottom of this, my hacking has gotten a lot better!"


	13. Chapter Twelve Kissed

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twelve - Kissed

Agent Maria Hill frowned at the screen in front of her. _Not again_, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"Director," she spoke into her earpiece. "I'm afraid Mr Stark is attempting to hack our databases…again."

"What information is he trying to access?" Her boss replied, his voice neither alarmed or surprised.

"Uh." Maria tapped a few keys, her eyes skimming over the files. "Looks like Carter and Zack Thomas's dossiers. Along with a few more pictures of Agent Romanoff's photo shoot. Shall I run the anti-virus?"

"Do it," Fury instructed. "I'll have a word with him."

"Yes, sir." Maria slid a key card into the USB port, letting the anti-virus upload and destroy Stark's hack code. "Jerk," she muttered, returning to her work.

Scanning through the security footage, Maria let out a small gasp when she got to the cameras in Carter Thomas's cell.

"Barton," she chuckled quietly. Her fellow agent was resting on Carter's bed, the girl herself asleep in his arms. It seemed they had been laying there for a while, a peaceful smile on Clint's face. "What are you thinking?" Maria scolded him under her breath. She should report this to Fury, but…couldn't quite bring herself to. Instead, she switched the screen off with a smile, leaving the two alone.

* * *

"Well, that didn't work," Tony grumbled before Fury had a chance to talk. "I really thought I had it this time too. Are you here to give me a telling off? I promise I won't do it again, boss."

"Why do you insist on working against me, Mr Stark?" Fury asked, hands behind his back as he gave the genius a dressing down. "After all S.H.I.E.L.D. has done for you? We saved your life, if you recall."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony waved him away. "Look, we're a little busy here, so if you could…you know, go away."

"Leave me outta this," Bruce muttered, working through some data.

"Don't worry, doctor," Fury said to him. "Continue your work, this doesn't concern you."

"Well, I think it does," Tony disagreed. "Seeing as, once again, you have us working blind. Tell us what you want with the kid, we can't help until you do."

"_You_ are not part of this operation, Mr Stark," Fury reminded him. "If I need your expertise, I'll let you know, until then-"

"But you _do_ need me, remember," Tony said with a grin. "Or at least, my info on N-GES-"

"Oh yes," Fury said, his face serious. "Those files you uploaded…I didn't get a chance to read them since we had to stop them hacking our systems instead."

"Natasha totally said I could," Tony defended himself, holding his hands up.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Fury drawled.

"Well, she definitely didn't say I couldn't," Tony amended. "That part's true. Tell him, Bruce."

"She didn't say he couldn't," Bruce repeated, still scribbling away at his desk. "But it _was _implied."

"You are a horrible friend, doctor," Tony scolded, pointing at Bruce. "Alright, yes, I hacked you. Yes, I shouldn't have. No, Natasha wasn't on board with it, but come on," he said to Fury. "I'm bored, and I'm interested. Just gimme something to do. I want in on this one, boss." Fury sighed, shaking his head.

"Go home, Mr Stark," he said. "If we need you-"

"You'll let me know," Tony finished. "Yeah, yeah." Shrugging on his jacket, Tony made to leave. "Bruce," he called back. "Keep up the good work."

"See you later, Tony," Bruce replied. Fury crossed the room to the computer screen running through some numbers. "You know he's not just gonna let it go, don't you?" Bruce spoke up, looking up at the director from his chair.

"I don't just know it," was Fury's reply. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

Carter mumbled to herself as she began to wake up, burrowing her head into something a lot firmer than her pillow. She jerked up with a gasp, startling Clint.

"Jeez!" He gasped, clutching his chest. "You scared the shit outta me!"

"Get outta my bed!" Carter yelled, pushing him away from her. Not expecting it, Clint fell to the floor with a thud. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You fell asleep," Clint defended himself, rising to his feet. "In my arms," he then added quietly. "I…I didn't want to wake you and I guess…I fell asleep too."

"You fell asleep!" Carter screeched, lobbing a pillow at him. "In my bed!"

"What's the problem?" Clint demanded, catching the pillow easily. "You were fine before."

"I was…" Carter blushed. In reality, she had been taken back by his words, comforted almost. "I was exhausted," she finished. "Tired, that's all."

"Carter," Clint groaned, rubbing his eyes. "You can't still be mad at me."

"Can't I?" Carter challenged, climbing to her feet. "Just watch me!" She stated, prodding his chest. Clint grabbed her hand, spinning her and clutching her to him, her back pressed against his chest. Her breathing quickened, unused to such an intimate embrace. "Let go," she demanded.

"You could make me," Clint pointed out. "Easily, I might add. Why ask?"

"Because…because I," Carter stammered, her face flushing red. Clint's breath whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver against him. "I shouldn't have to. You should let me go because I tell you to."

"That's a rubbish answer," Clint chuckled, enjoying the feeling her in his arms again. "Come on, Carter, give me the truth."

"You don't deserve the truth," Carter mumbled, dropping her head forward in submission. With a smirk, Clint blew on the nape of her neck, making her tremble again. "Stop that."

"I'd rather not," he replied, resting his head on top of hers as she brought it back up. "Tell me," he asked again. "Why don't you just break free?" It was a simple enough question, but they both knew he wasn't only referring to their current situation. Despite all her complaints, Carter had let Clint bring her up and let S.H.I.E.L.D. lock her up, when she could have at least attempted to escape. Why hadn't she?

"I…I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, so low Clint could barely hear. He released her abruptly. He already knew she was here because of him…but not like that. She feared for him? Why? Carter seemed to sense the question, turning to face him slowly. "You asked if I was okay," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "When you…when we killed those men. The first thing you said was…you asked if I was okay. You…you seemed to care."

"I **did **care," Clint assured her. "I do care. Carter, it might've only been my job, but I really did think you'd be safer here, I still do. As long as you're here I can…I can keep an eye on you." Clint paused, running his hand down his face wearily. "Your files, the things I've read…it just makes me…makes me want to protect you, even if you don't need me."

"What if…" Carter began, stepping towards him. "What if I do need you?" She asked, her eyes shining with tears. "What if all I ever needed was someone to just…give a damn about me?"

"Then, you have me," Clint answered with a small smile. "I give more than a damn, Carter. I give a whole bunch of damns. I give the Hoover Dam!" Carter laughed, unable to help herself.

"What?" She exclaimed. "I don't want the Hoover Dam!"

"Good," Clint sighed, grinning. "I don't really have it."

"God, Clint," Carter groaned, a smile still gracing her face. "You're just…"

"Just?" Clint prompted as Carter trailed off, shaking her head.

"Just…I don't know, unbelievable," she finished, looking up at him, stepping closer again. "I've travelled so much, and met so many people, but none…none like you."

"There's no one like me," Clint informed her, gently placing his hands on her waist, his heart pounding as Carter slid her hands up his chest to his shoulders. "Only sad imitations."

"Sad?" Carter asked, smiling.

"Sad because they'll never be the real thing," Clint explained, tugging her closer to him.

Their hips met seconds before their lips did, Carter trailing her hands into his hair. She smiled against his mouth, pulling away slightly. He kissed her so gently, waiting for her to push him away, but she never did, only pulled him close again, crashing her lips against his with a passion she didn't know she had. His hands gripped her waist before one slid to the small of her back, urging her closer, the other rising to the nape of her neck, preventing her from breaking contact.

As if she would, she thought. For all the hurt she had suffered, she wasn't letting this little piece of heaven slip away so easily. Her heart kicked and jumped in her chest, aching and shivering in ecstasy all at the same time. She could feel the heat spreading through her, the kiss becoming faster, more urgent as Clint's hands began to roam her body, trailing up her back and down her sides.

He pushed against her, forcing her to take a step back, then another one, her backs of her legs hitting the bed. She pulled him with her as she fell back onto the mattress, his lips never leaving hers. He couldn't quite believe what he was doing, what they were doing, but Clint certainly wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. They were both wrapped in each other, devouring each other, unaware that the Earth continued spinning. They wouldn't even have noticed if it stopped. Which is probably how Tony Stark had entered the cell without alerting either of them.

"You know," he spoke up, the two springing apart at the sound of his voice, Clint instinctively jumping to his feet and shielding Carter. He immediately relaxed when he saw who it was, but his jaw remained clenched. "You should think about a lock on this place. Well, a different lock, one that stops people getting **in**, not out."

"Stark," Clint sighed, turning to help Carter to her feet, her eyes darting between the two men, her face flushed. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to meet the infamous Carter Thomas," Tony replied, offering his hand to Carter. She shook it warily.

"Now you have," Clint then said as they shook. "Screw off."

"Is he always like this?" Tony asked Carter, pacing around the cell.

"I…I don't know," Carter answered, looking at Clint questionably. "We were…um, we were busy."

"Oh, I saw," Tony told them, grinning widely. "A few other people probably did too," he added, nodding at the camera. Carter clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. Clint just shook his head.

"Forgot about that," he murmured, looking up at it. He gave whoever was watching the finger, causing Tony to laugh.

"Charming, isn't he?" He chuckled at Carter.

"What do you want with me?" Carter asked, deciding to get straight to the point. Her head was still a bit fuzzy, and her heart still raced, but the moment had definitely passed. "Who are you?"

"Tony Stark," Tony introduced himself, finishing in his inspection of the room. "They really don't give you much to keep you occupied, do they?" He noted. "No wonder you're making out with your guard dog."

"Tony," Clint warned him, tensing.

"No offence," Tony insisted. "As for you," he then said to Carter. "I'm interested in nanotech, you are the offspring of a man built with nanotech, and I wanted to see how big your hands are."

"What?" Carter and Clint said at the same time. Carter looked at her hands, turning them over.

"Why?" She asked.

"No reason," Tony replied, snapping a picture of them on his sidekick. "Nice you meet you."

"Wait," Carter called as he turned to leave. "What are you doing?"

"Just keeping busy," Tony shrugged, the door opening as he approached. "Go back to what you were doing." And with that, he was gone.

"He's…" Carter began, face crumpled in though.

"Yeah," Clint agreed, sighing heavily. "I…I'm hungry," he then decided, holding his hand out to Carter with a grin. "Dinner?"

Carter smiled, slipping her hand into his.

"Sure," she replied.


	14. Chapter Thirteen Confession

**I still can't believe the amount of people that are enjoying this story. It's been favourited over 100 times! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favouriting and alerting, it really makes my day a little brighter.**

**A fair wee bit of research went into the writing of this chapter, and I have to apologise for the lack of Clint, but this is the turning point in the plot, and a lot of nifty things are revealed, so hopefully you'll forgive me. I'll make it up to you next chapter, promise!**

**Also, if you are curious about necrosis, be careful googling it. Some pics are pretty gory!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirteen - Confession

Bruce had spent the past two days straight working. He barely slept, ate or even went to the bathroom. But the reports on Carter were finally finished. Fury had wanted such an extensive account, Bruce had had to run more tests on her. Luckily, she had let him without too much fuss. She needed persuasion before she'd let him approach her with a needle, but Clint had been able to assuage her in the end. Bruce's eyes had poured over blood samples, hair samples, skin tissue, bone marrow, and even fingernails. But now, he was done.

He hit send, and leaned back in his chair, yawning and stretching. Maybe now he could get some sleep.

"Bruce!"

Maybe not.

"Tony," Bruce groaned, turning his attention to the video call that had burst into life on his computer screen. "I'm exhausted, what is it?"

"You finished the report," Tony told him. "Send me a copy."

"No way," Bruce replied, rubbing his tired eyes. "Fury'll kill me if I did."

"Nah, it'll be fine," Tony insisted nonchalantly. "Come on, I need it for something."

"Is this to do with Carter's hands?" Bruce asked, remembering Carter's first encounter with the man of iron. "She said you took a picture of them."

"Yeah, no, maybe," Tony rattled off. "It's a surprise. I need the report…or a blood sample. Actually, both. Yeah, gimme both."

"Tony," Bruce sighed. "I'll send the report, but that's all, okay?"

"Thanks, doctor," Tony drawled. "I'll get my own blood sample then, shall I?"

"Good luck with that," Bruce chuckled. "The kid hates needles."

"Great." Tony signed off, leaving Bruce to hit off another copy of his report on Carter. With the two reports sent, Bruce finally headed out of the lab and to his rooms, determined to get some rest.

* * *

The next day, Carter found herself waiting outside Fury's office. Clint had told her that morning that Doctor Banner had finished his assignment on her, and to expect Fury's attention at some point. She didn't think it would be so soon.

While she waited for the Director to show up, Carter let her mind drift back to the events of the past few days. Apart from the tests with Bruce, most of her time had been spent in her cell, with Clint beside her. He had yet to receive a new mission, and was happy to pass the time with her. She still didn't have free reign of the facility, being confined to her room, but with Clint there, it wasn't so bad anymore.

Once she let her mistrust go, she found Clint's company enjoyable. He refused to share his mission parameters with her, but finally explained the reason for his actions. Carter listened, and begrudgingly understood. Putting herself in Clint's shoes, she realised why he took such extreme measures to bring her in. He was scared for her. He had wanted to move her to the safety of .S.H.I.E.L.D. Central before her past could catch up with her. He really did care about her. It made her heart race and swell just thinking about it.

They talked and laughed together, but mostly, they kissed. Never anything more, but for Carter it was just enough. Having him hold her, run his fingers through her hair while his lips worked wonders on hers. Living on the run, Carter had little experience of relationships, only letting a few men ever touch her, before pushing them away. With Clint, she got no such urges. She only wanted him closer. He seemed to want it too. He smiled whenever he pulled his mouth from hers, grinned from ear to ear when she greeted him with a kiss, and smirked mischievously every time his hand roamed some part of her body it hadn't before.

Carter couldn't quite believe it, but there was a feeling of contentment simmering in her stomach. She was almost happy. Having thrown off her name and identity at six years old, she had forgotten what it was like to be called 'Carter' again, and shivers ran down her spine when Clint whispered it in pleasure as their kisses grew more intense. He was no longer 'Curt the Writer' to her. Now, he was Clint Barton. And she trusted him.

"Miss Thomas." Fury's voice startled Carter out of her thoughts, causing her to blush. "Come in." Fury held the door open as Carter entered his office. It swung closed as he crossed the room to sit behind his desk, indicating for her to take a seat opposite. She did as she was bid, her stomach a knot of anxiety. "We have a few things to address before we get started here," Fury told her, resting his clasped hands on the desk in front of him. Carter bit her lip, expecting what was to come. "You and Agent Barton. I've been informed of your relationship."

"We're not in a relationship," Carter replied with a shrug. "We're just…I don't know, but it's not that serious. Even if it was," she then challenged. "What difference would it make? Clint did his job; I'm here."

"What you and Agent Barton do is none of my concern," Fury stated firmly. "As long as it doesn't interfere with his work."

"It won't," Carter assured him. "He doesn't have his new mission yet anyway."

"He will soon," was all Fury had to say to that. "Next; Mr Stark. I believe he visited you?"

Carter nodded.

"He is interested in your background," Fury explained, his eyes dropping down to the files in front of him. "He is a friend to this organisation, and a good man, but he doesn't have clearance to interrogate you. Don't tell him anything." Carter couldn't help but roll her eyes at that.

"Some friend," she muttered.

"Now," Fury cleared him throat. "To the matter at hand; Doctor Banner's report." Fury lifted the file on his desk. An old fashioned man, Nick Fury preferred the paper copies of his data to their digital counterparts. He leafed through the different papers, pulling out the one he was looking for. He held it out to Carter, who leaned forward to accept it. On it was a graph of some kind, showing levels of the static in her bloodstream.

"I don't…" she said slowly, frowning at the data. "I don't understand. I have electricity in my blood?"

"A residue of the nanotechnology in your father's DNA that was passed down to you," Fury clarified, nodding. "You have increased levels of static electricity when your heart rate is increased or strained, but it's always there. It always has been. You could, _theoretically_, act as a power source for something. Your body is constantly producing it."

"Wow," Carter whispered, staring down at the paper in her hands. "Is it…dangerous?"

"Not to you," Fury said, smiling slightly. "But it could easily be used to harm someone, if you chose to learn how to do so."

"Is that why N-GES wanted me?" Carter asked, ancient pieces of information clicking together in her head. Fury nodded again.

"According to our research," he began. "Ever since your escape they have been attempting to recreate the circumstances that led to your conception. But whatever it was that make your father, whatever ghost in the machine, it was a one off. We believe they have been unsuccessful."

"That's good," Carter mused, handing the paper back to the Fury. A moment of silence followed, Fury gazing down at Carter thoughtfully.

"I have a confession to make," he told her. "Perhaps I should have told you from the beginning, but I didn't think you'd hear me out."

"What is it?" Carter asked hesitantly, her stomach beginning to twist nervously.

"I knew your father," Fury said, smiling sadly. "Knew him well. We were best friends once."

"You…you're kidding me," Carter stuttered, eyes wide. "What!"

"It's a long story," Fury sighed, leaning back in his seat. "But Zack and I were in the O.S.S. together, a long time ago. We fought alongside each other day in and day out. I trusted him with my life, and I know he trusted me the same, but when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D….he took it personally, thought I was betraying him, abandoning him. S.H.I.E.L.D. was unlike any organization that existed at that time, and a lot of people, your father included, thought it's advanced technology a threat. We had worked together for years, I was the best man at your parent's wedding, but after that…Zack cut all contact with me."

"Then why look for me?" Carter asked. "If my father wanted nothing to do with you?"

"Carter," Fury said solemnly. "Do you know how your father died?" Carter frowned. She didn't. She had never really thought about it. "It wasn't long after you were born. He called me, he was dying. Said he wanted to make things right before he passed. We talked for a long time on the phone, but he wouldn't tell me what it was that was killing him. I couldn't just let it go, we had been through too much together. I had some people look into his medical history. That was when I found out about N-GES, and what they had done to him."

"The programme?"

"There is a reason nanotechnology is still a work in progress," Fury went on, rising from his desk to pace the room. "Nanotoxicology. The effects are mostly still unknown, a lot of speculation, but your father suffered from the worst. Cell death. Also known as Necrosis. It was brutal, it was painful, and because of the extent of N-GES's work on him, it was fatal. By the time my men had located him, he was dead. His last act was to have you and your mother moved to a safe house. I knew any attempts to find you would also alert N-GES, so I left you alone. I had no idea you they had found you until recently. I had men stationed across the world, looking for you. My research then revealed you had escaped their clutches, and were on the run. I've been hunting you ever since."

"But why?" Carter asked again.

"You have your father's altered DNA," Fury explained. "But without the poisonous nanotech that made it possible, which means you're in no danger of the side effects. That was the main focus of Doctor Banner's research; I had to know the same thing wouldn't happen to you, for your father's sake."

"Wow," Carter murmured, blinking back tears. "I…I never knew."

"And it's also for the sake of your father that I offer you a proposition," Fury then said, ceasing in his pacing to face her. "Carter Thomas, I want to recruit you as a member of S.H.I.E.L.D."


	15. Chapter Fourteen Love Birds

**To make up for the lack of Clint last time, have a full chapter of him!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Fourteen - Love Birds

"Whoa-oh," Carter gasped, grinning as she was led into her new quarters. "I like it!"

"Not bad," Clint agreed, slinging one arm over Carter's shoulder. "We might both be able to fit on your bed for a change," he added, earning himself a thump on the chest.

It was true, though. Carter's new status meant she was no longer required to stay in a cell, a new room designated to her. It was much bigger than her cell, holding much more than a small bed. She had a couch and television in the corner, and a bookcase full of tomes selected for her specifically. There was a desk, a small laptop resting on it, and a folder of papers beside. And finally, a large double bed, covered in cushions and blankets. Clint released Carter to throw himself on top of it.

"Clint!" Carter scolded him, unable to hide a smile as he stretched out on the bed.

"And guess what?" Clint said, propping himself up on his elbows. "No cameras." Carter raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Nothing," she sighed, strolling over to the desk. She looked down at the file there, frowning. "Oh."

"What?" Clint asked, sitting up. "Carter, what is it?"

"My dad's dossier," she mumbled, opening it to leaf through the reports.

"Are you sure you wanna look at that now?" Clint crossed the room to stand behind her, sliding his hands around her waist. He rested his head on top of hers, gazing down at the documents in her hands. "Some of it's…graphic."

"Yeah," Carter agreed, setting the folder back down on the desk. "I'll look at it another time."

"Good idea," Clint smiled, turning Carter in his arms to face him. "Let's break in the bed."

"Will the three of us all fit?" Clint rolled his eyes, releasing Carter to face Tony.

"We probably could, actually," Carter suggested, with a grin, still pleased with the size of her new bed.

"Bad girl," Tony scolded her, wagging a finger in her face as he looked around the room. "You'll give me naughty thoughts, and I've been doing so well with Pepper."

"Pepper?" Carter asked, looking at Clint questionably.

"His girlfriend," he explained offhandedly. "What are you doing here, Tony? I thought Fury sent you home."

"Our esteemed leader doesn't send _me_ anywhere," Tony drawled. "I send myself, thank you very much."

"That didn't answer my question."

"I read your report," Tony then said to Carter, plopping himself down on her new couch, resting his arms along the back of it. "Well, Banner's report on you. It's a pretty good read, starts off slow, but the ending…phew! Loved the character development. Is it true you don't like needles?"

"I'm not their biggest fan," Carter muttered, pursing her lips. "Why?"

"Let's see your hands again," Tony then said, beckoning her over to him. Carter glanced at Clint, who could only shrug. Who knew what Tony was up to this time? Doing as she was bid, Carter held her hands out to Tony, who examined them closely. He then pressed his thumb into her palm, a small device on it pricking her skin.

"Oww!" She gasped, wrenching her hands back. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing a little lunch won't fix," Tony replied, slipping the device, and the blood sample it drew, into a small case. "See you love birds later." With a mock curtsy to them both, Tony sauntered out of the room, pulling out his sidekick and tapping away.

"He is insane," Carter stated, peering at the small pinprick in her skin. "That hurt."

"Here," Clint said, lifting her hand to his mouth and planting a loud kiss on the broken skin. "That better?"

"No," Carter pouted, giving him puppy eyes. Clint chuckled, kissing her palm repeatedly.

"How about now?"

"All better," she grinned, winding her arms around his neck. "Now I owe you a few kisses."

"Well," Clint mused, his hands finding her waist. "You could either give me lots of little kisses, or…"

"Or?"

"Or one big one," he concluded, smirking. "With lots of tongue and the occasional lip biting."

"Biting?" Carter asked, frowning.

"You've never been bitten!"

"No," Carter laughed. "Is that a thing? Are you making that up?"

"Oh, Carter," Clint sighed, shaking his head. "You've been missing out."

The conversation trailed off after that, Clint showing Carter all the things about kissing she didn't know. She moaned in pleasure when he lightly bit her lower lip, then giggled as she tried to reciprocate, Clint growling at her when she applied too much pressure. Not long later, the two were tangled up together on the bed, tongues twisting and pulling at each other. With no security camera to impede him, Clint's actions were bolder than before, his fingers inching Carter's shirt up her side, groaning when she tugged the garment back into place.

"Stop it," she mumbled between kisses, her breathing heavy.

"Don't want to," was all the reply Clint could get out, persistently trying to undress her. All his attempts ended in failure, Carter either swatting his hands away, or rearranging her clothes back into position. "Carter," he whined, pulling away.

"I'm sorry," Carter sighed as Clint removed himself from her. "I'm just not there yet."

"Just not where?" Clint asked, offering his hands to pull her upright.

"I'm not ready to… to take this further," she tried to explain, letting Clint tug her into a sitting position. "It's too soon, and I've got a lot on my mind."

"I know." Clint trailed his fingers through her hair, smiling softly. "Sorry, you're just…too tempting. I can't help myself." Carter smiled, cheeks flushing red. "See," he said, stroking her face. "You do that, and it's adorable." Carter then rolled her eyes, chuckling.

"You're right," she laughed. "It's **my** fault." Letting herself fall back, Carter lay down on the bed again, tugging on Clint's hand. With a grin, he scooted down beside her, allowing her to manoeuvre herself into his arms, head resting on his chest. He inhaled deeply, loving the scent of her hair as he buried his nose in it.

"I can't believe Fury offered you a job," he murmured, closing his eyes. "You're gonna be a field agent."

"I know," Carter agreed, snuggling into Clint's torso. "Maybe we'll work together someday."

"I'm sure we will," Clint smiled to himself. "I'll probably get to help train you."

"Train me?" Carter asked, twisting to look up at him.

"Yeah," he replied, eyes still shut peacefully. "You didn't realise you'd have to be trained? Fury never said?"

"He mentioned something about preparing," Carter said, thinking back as she rested her head back down. "I thought it'd be more…information based." She paused, thoughts racing. "What's training like?" She asked. "Is it hard?"

"Oh yeah," Clint chuckled, smirking. "It gets pretty tough. Strength, endurance, intelligence, gotta build it all up. It'll be months before you get let out onto the field, even longer before you're fully qualified."

"Wow," Carter whispered. "I didn't think it'd be such an ordeal."

"Don't worry," Clint soothed her, lacing his fingers through hers. "They start you off slow…well, usually. You're stronger than the average applicant, who knows what Fury's got planned for you."

"Oh!" Carter exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "He said you'd be getting your new mission soon. Sort of a passing comment, but still…"

"Yeah," Clint sighed. "I know. I usually look forward to a new mission, but…I'm gonna miss doing this every day."

"Well," Carter mumbled, pushing her body closer to his. "We can do this until you leave, then again when you get back." Clint laughed softly.

"Sounds good to me, babe."


	16. Chapter Fifteen New Mission

**This is something of a filler chapter, and a little short, but it's got some important plot points as the overall story begins to pick up, so bear with me.**

**Still loving all your wonderful reviews!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Fifteen - New Mission

Steve Rogers could always be found in the gym. Day or night, rain or shine, if you were looking for the captain, it was best to check there first. Back in the forties, Steve had been pretty laid back, but waking in the 21st century had left him frustrated and alone. Beating the stuffing out of a punch bag was a great way to vent his aggression, and generally how he passed the time, not that he needed any more time to slip away from him.

A shrill ringing suddenly erupted from Steve's gym bag, gaining the captain's reluctant attention. He crossed the gym, plucking the cell phone out of the bag. S.H.I.E.L.D. had given in to him, and had been the only ones to call him on it so far. Outside the organisation, Steve had no friends or family, no one to contact him or spend time with him. He was lonely, but he preferred it that way. He had lost everyone he knew, everyone he cared for, and he didn't trust it not to happen again. Life was easier like this.

"This is Steve Rogers," he stated the rehearsed line, answering the ringing cell phone. "How can I help you?"

"Captain," Director Fury's voice greeted him. "How are you?"

"Keeping busy, sir," Steve replied, holding in a heavy sigh. Fury never called with good news. "You have a mission for me?"

"Not as such," Fury said. "More of a favour, something I feel you might be interested in."

"Oh." Steve was taken back. "A favour, sir?"

"We have a new recruit at S.H.I.E.L.D.," Fury explained. "In need of training."

"And you want me?"

"She has a history with the Super Soldier Programme," Fury went on. "A private corporation attempting to create a new breed experimented on her father. The altered DNA was passed down, making her far stronger and faster than any normal human could be. I figured this would be right up your alley, Cap."

"I'm sorry, _she_?" Steve questioned. "You want me to train a woman?"

"Times have changed, Captain," Fury said, a sentence Steve had heard several times since awaking. "Women are no longer seen as the lesser sex. You've seen Natasha in action, Carter will be just as capable with the right training."

"I don't know, sir," Steve sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. "I've never trained someone before."

"You won't be working alone," Fury assured him. "But Carter needs someone she can trust, someone she can look up to. She needs a leader. That's you, Cap." There was a pause, Steve thinking hard.

"All right," he eventually said. "I'll do it."

* * *

Carter sat on the edge of the table in the S.H.I.E.L.D. gymnasium, eagerly awaiting her new trainer. Agent Coulson had visited her that morning, telling her she was to meet 'Captain Rogers' in the gym. Carter couldn't believe it. Captain America himself was to train her! She had known of him all her life, the scientists at N-GES always comparing her father to him, always discussing him. After her escape, Carter had looked into the Super Soldier, blaming him for what had happened to her, but the more she learned, the more her hate abated.

The man was a hero, an icon. If her father had survived to turn out like him, Carter would have been proud. She always thought maybe someday, she could be a hero too; using her strengths for good. She never dreamed it could actually happen, but here she was; about to be trained by the man himself so she could help S.H.I.E.L.D. protect the world. She couldn't remove the grin on her face, or hush the butterflies in her stomach.

The door to the gym banged open, Steve Rogers entering the open room, gym bag on one shoulder, punch bag over the other. He carried the dead weight so easily, as if it was nothing more than a large pillow. He smiled nervously at her as he walked over, dropping both items to the ground before extending a hand to her.

"Steve Rogers," he introduced himself. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"I know who you are," Carter grinned, hopping off the table and shaking his hand. "I'm Carter Thomas, and please don't call me ma'am."

"Sorry," Steve apologized, kneeling to open his gym bag. "Force of habit."

"It's okay," Carter assured him. "It just…doesn't suit me." Steve smiled again, pulling a roll of bandages from the bag.

"So…Carter," he said, straightening up. "You ready for this?" Carter grinned, stomach fizzling with excitement.

"Beyond ready," she replied.

"Then let's get started."

* * *

"I've got your new mission mark," Natasha spoke down the phone as Clint put it to his ear.

"Hey Tash," Clint drawled. "No hello?"

"Just listen," his college hissed, the urgency in her voice alerting him to the seriousness of the situation. "I've been trailing this guy, but he's smarter than I gave him credit for. All my tech has been bugged, and I'm being followed by his goons; I can't risk contacting the Director directly. But this **is **the guy he's been after. I'm letting myself get caught-"

"Tash-"

"-to buy you some time. You need to get out here and take him out before he has the chance to run. The info he has, N-GES are after him, we need to get him before they find him. I've e-mailed you the coordinates, it's all encrypted and safe. _You need to get out here!_"

Clint made to speak, but the dialling tone cut him off. Natasha had hung up. Acting quickly, he raced from the room to the helipad, one hand quickly loading up the emails on his cell phone as he ran. The quinjet was waiting for him, taking him no time at all to get it in the air, loading the coordinates into the onboard computer.

As the jet took to the skies, Fury's voice came in through Clint's headset.

"Barton," the director bit out. "I assume you have an explanation."

"You know it, sir," Clint replied. "Got a call from the Widow, her mark's been alerted to her presence, she needs me to strike before he can flee." Fury sighed.

"Very well," he said. "Make it quick, Agent Barton, this man knows too much. We need him dead before his knowledge can be bought."

"Got it, sir," came Clint's reply. "One more thing," he then said before Fury signed off. "Let Carter know I've not just run off…tell her I'll see her soon."

"Am I your _messenger boy_, Agent Barton?" Fury questioned, his voice housing a quiet sarcasm.

"Fine," Clint shrugged. "Don't tell her, let her get angry, have fun dealing with that."

"All right," Fury muttered. "I'll tell her, but only this once time."

"Thanks, boss." Clint smirked to himself as Fury hung up. "Okay, Tash, I'm coming for ya."


	17. Chapter Sixteen Father

**I have to admit, it found it hard to figure out how to write Steve's character, so I'm really hoping you find him realistic. Well, as realisitc as a fictional character can be. **

**I can't believe I have over a hundred reviews for this! You are all so fantastic, do you know that?  
**

**Enjoy this, sadly Clint free, chapter. The man himself is a little busy right now, but he'll be back soon enough.  
**

**Jay X  
**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Sixteen - Father

Steve let himself smile as he lowered his hands. Carter was certainly strong, the two of them standing in the facility's boxing ring. They had been sparring for two hours now, Carter finally beginning to tire. Her punches were coming slower, her form sloppy as she whacked the training pads Steve held up for her. She noticed Steve relaxing, and let herself fall to her knees, panting heavily.

"Wow," she gasped, the sweat dripping from her forehead and splashing to the canvas as her head drooped forward. "That's…exhausting."

"You did well," Steve chuckled, slapping her shoulder as he knelt down next to her, pulling the training pads off. "Better than I thought, honestly."

"What did you think?" Carter asked with a grin, watching Steve as he bowed out of the ring, holding the ropes apart for her to follow.

"I thought…" Steve paused, pulling Carter's hands out to him, unwrapping the bandages around her fists. "I thought you'd be weaker…I didn't think you'd be able to throw a decent punch, let alone a couple of hundred of them. Sorry," he then apologised. "For doubting you."

"S'okay," Carter assured him, accepting a bottle of water from the Captain. She sipped a little, smiling as Steve up-ended his, downing it in one before tossing the empty bottle neatly into the bin on the far end of the gym. "You've got a hell of an aim."

"Thanks," Steve replied offhandedly. "Your's will improve soon enough." Zipping his gym bag up, he swung it onto his shoulder. "That's us for the day," he told Carter. "See you back here in the morning at-"

"Wait," Carter cut him off, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave. "I wanted…could we…talk?" She asked, twisting her mouth at how pathetic she sounded. "Sorry," she said, releasing his arm as he frowned in confusion at her. "It's just…I've known about you for as long as I can remember, the guys in the white coats always comparing me to you, and I…there's things I've always wanted to ask you."

"Like what?" Steve questioned, lowering his bag to the floor.

"Just…" Carter sighed, pacing the gym, cracking her knuckles as she tried to find the words. "Did it hurt?" She eventually asked. "The…the process?"

"Uh…yeah," Steve answered, closing his eyes for a second, thinking back to all those years ago. "Yeah, it hurt…growing pains, I guess." A pause. "Did it hurt you?"

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head. "I was…born like this, but the white coats…they kept…doing stuff. Stuff that hurt."

"Yeah, Fury mentioned something like that," Steve remembered. He sighed, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "He said it was your father?"

"They tried to make him a super soldier," Carter explained, still pacing. "Like you…but a different process. They didn't have Erskine's Formula, you see, so they tried to change the DNA structure, force his body to create a higher potential. In ended up killing him; his cells decayed and died."

"I'm sorry," Steve said quietly.

"I only found out recently," Carter shrugged. "Never thought about it before then…but now…I can't stop. I keep trying to remember him, remember some small thing about him, but…I was too young."

"Why do you want to talk to _me _about this?" Steve couldn't help but ask. "I mean, we've only just met, Carter."

"I thought maybe…" Carter sighed heavily, finally ceasing her pacing. "Maybe you'd remind me of him…maybe you'd understand how I feel…" She couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. _Maybe you'd be a like a father in his place. A strong man, a good man. A super soldier._

"I lost my father when I was young," Steve offered. "My mother too. It's why I wanted to join the army in the first place. Growing up I was always small, sickly, I wanted to make them proud of me."

"I'm sure they are," Carter said, watching Steve's sad expression.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Steve told her, straightening himself up. "You see, Carter, what matters is **you**. What you do, who you choose to be. I'm sure your father was a great guy, but you don't have to be him to be great yourself. Stop worrying about it, just concentrate on what we're doing here."

"Thanks, Steve," Carter smiled, face flushing slightly.

"Don't worry about it, kid." Steve clapped Carter on the shoulder, picking up his gym bag again. "See you in the morning."

"See ya, Captain."

* * *

On her way back to her room, Carter managed to get considerably lost, finding herself walking into several quarters that weren't her own before admitting defeat.

"Hey," she said, stopping the next person to walk past her. "I'm Carter Thomas, I can't find my-"

"Miss Thomas." She was interrupted by Agent Maria Hill. "Continue with what you were doing," Maria told the agent Carter had stopped, who nodded and went on her way. "I've been looking for you, Miss Thomas."

"Oh?" Carter was immediately suspicious. Agent Hill answered directly to Fury, and only to Fury. Whatever she wanted, was what Fury wanted.

"Come with me," she was instructed, Maria turning on her heel and striding back down the corridor. Carter had no choice but to follow.

She was lead to her own room, much to her pleasure. Maria motioned to the desk, Carter sitting in the chair as she was bid.

"Agent Barton has been called on for a mission," Maria stated. "He left this morning."

"What?" Carter was taken back. "He didn't come to say goodbye?"

"He had no choice in the matter," Maria explained emotionlessly. "It was an emergency. He requested a message be relayed to you. He's not just run off, and he'll see you soon."

"Th-that's it?" Carter asked incredulously.

"What were you expecting?" Maria asked, raising one eyebrow. "A profession of love?"

"Well, no," Carter sighed. "Just…that he'll miss me or something."

"Like I said, Miss Thomas," Maria sighed. "It was an emergency."

"Is everything all right?" Carter questioned as Maria made to leave.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that with you," Maria said firmly. "But," she added, turning to face Carter in her chair. "I wouldn't worry about him," she said, her voice softening at Carter's anxious face. "Agent Barton is one of the most competent field agents on staff, he can look after himself."

"You're right," Carter murmured, staring down at her lap. Maria smiled at the young woman, before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

It was strange. Carter had never worried about someone before. She had never been close enough to anyone to care, but her heart pounded at the thought of Clint tangling with some bad guys, putting himself in danger. It just made her more determined to work hard with Steve, become strong enough and capable enough to protect him. Clint was only human, after all. He was fragile compared to her. She hated to think of him like that, but it was true.

"Oh, Clint," she murmured to herself, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. "Don't you dare get hurt."

Deciding not to dwell on it, Carter sat forward, flipping open her laptop and powering it up. She had access to some S.H.I.E.L.D. dossiers, Clint's included, but instead fired up a game of minesweeper, attempting to distract herself.

"You could use a shower, kid." Carter gasped at the voice, a window opening on her screen to reveal none other than Tony Stark. "No offence."

"My God," she groaned, hand over her heart to still the pounding. "Are you not capable of a normal hello?"

"I'm perfectly capable," Tony drawled. "I'm rude, not socially inept."

"Coulda fooled me," Carter muttered. "What do you want this time? My hands again?" She held them up to the screen, wiggling her fingers.

"Beautiful," Tony said. "But, no. I need a favour."

"A favour?"

"Yeah, it's when one person does something for another person out of the kindness of their heart," Tony explained with a smirk. "I do a lot of them. Got a big heart."

"Shut up," Carter snapped. "What kind of favour?"

"Nothing difficult, I promise," Tony said. "Just need you to measure the circumference of your wrist."

"What?"

"Your wrist," Tony repeated. "I've uploaded a little app to your phone that'll do it for you, just turn it on and scan your wrist."

"Why?"

"Uh uh uh," Tony scolded, wagging a finger at her. "Not questions, just results. Come on, Carter. Please?"

"Pfft, fine," Carter sighed, reaching into her pocket, pulling out the cell phone. She scrolled through the menu. "Is this it?" She asked. "Scan-underscore-five-oh-seven?"

"Yeah, just start it up and run the camera around your wrist," Tony instructed. "Like you were filming it." Carter nodded, doing as she was told. Once complete, the device beeped, a little envelope appearing then fading away as it automatically sent the information to Tony. Through the computer, Carter heard a similar noise. "Here it is," Tony said, Carter watching as he tapped on his sidekick. "Thanks, kid."

"Wait," Carter cried as Tony made to sign off. "What are you doing?"

"It's a surprise, kid," Tony replied. "You'll see soon enough." With that he was gone, the laptop screen now showing her game in progress.

"Damn," she mumbled, looking at the in game timer. "It didn't pause." So much for beating her fastest time. She sighed, starting a new game. "Stupid Tony."


	18. Chapter Seventeen Beautiful

**So, sometimes you plan these things. Sometimes they just happen. This chapter pretty much wrote itself, from start to finish, which is why it's longer than usual. Also, the rating has now gone up to 'M'. You'll see why. If you're not a fan of those kind of scenes feel free to skip it.**

**Also, to **cocoa85715**, I understand what you mean, and the next chapter should satisfy you somewhat. I hope so, anyway.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Seventeen - Beautiful

Natasha sighed as the men around her suddenly slumped to the floor, the arrows that had just crashed through the window now embedded in their necks. _Took him long enough,_ she thought to herself, beginning to work her hands free of the ropes binding her to the chair. It didn't take any more than thirty seconds, a personal best perhaps. Leaning forward, she then untied her ankles.

A nearby cell phone began to ring, Natasha scooping it up as she passed the desk. She was in her mark's office complex, on the top floor as they questioned her, so she decided to head to the roof instead of all the way down to the bottom.

"Barton," she said into the phone, no doubt in her mind it was him.

"How you doing there, Tash?" Clint's voice came through, sounding cocky as usual.

"You know me," she replied lightly. "N-GES had already contacted him, but he was haggling over numbers, lucky for us."

"The information he had?" Clint asked.

"No records of it," Natasha confirmed the unasked question. "All the software has been wiped. He knew if they could get a hold of it without him, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him before we could."

"Uh, before **I** could, you mean."

"Stop being so smug, Clint," Natasha groaned, reaching the stairwell. Her heels clicked as she ascended to the roof. "Bring the jet over here, it's been a long day."

"You got it." Clint hung up as Natasha reached the door to the roof, the cool air refreshing her greatly. She breathed in deep, sitting on the edge of the wall as she waited for Clint.

Fifteen minutes later, there he was, landing no more than a few feet from her. The door lowered as she approached, closing behind her as soon as she was inside. The quinjet took to the air once more, Natasha sliding into the seat beside her fellow agent. She pulled the accompanying headset on, radioing through to Director Fury.

"Agent Romanoff," Fury's voice greeted her. "I assume all went well."

"Of course, sir," Natasha replied, Clint smirking beside her. "Manning's dead, and the information with him. Well, what he never let slip to me."

"What did he tell you?" Fury asked, hardly surprised Natasha had been able to weedle something out of him.

"Carter Thomas and her mother were found by his people," Natasha relayed. "From what I understand he knew the family personally. And…" She paused glancing at Clint. "I believe the mother is still alive." Fury took a sharp breath.

"I wasn't expecting that," he admitted.

"Neither was I, sir," Natasha agreed. "The original reports gave the impression that she was killed to get to Carter herself, but Manning seemed convinced of her survival." There was a slight pause, before Clint couldn't stop himself.

"You have to let her know, sir," he said. "She deserves to know."

"I think your feelings may be clouding your judgement, Agent Barton," Fury stated firmly. "Besides, we don't know for sure yet."

"But, sir-"

"The Director's right, Clint," Natasha cut him off. "If we told Carter her mother was alive, and we were wrong…I don't think she'd forgive us." Clint sighed.

"Whatever," he muttered.

"If there's nothing else, Agent Romanoff?"

"No, sir," Natasha replied.

"Report back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Central for the time being, both of you." Fury signed off, leaving Natasha with an angry Clint.

"I know you like her, Clint," she began. "But-"

"Don't, Tash," Clint interrupted. "Just don't. The decision's been made, there's nothing I can do."

"It's for the best."

"The best for who?" Clint muttered. "Because it's not best for Carter. If there's a chance her mom's alive, we should tell her. If she finds out we knew and kept it from her…"

"We're doing our job," Natasha reminded him curtly. "You know you shouldn't have gotten involved with her, but you did. You're just gonna have to deal with the consequences."

"Easy for you to say," Clint replied. "The only **consequence **you faced was a new job." Natasha groaned.

"Don't go there, Clint," she warned him. "That was a long time ago, just let it go."

"No," Clint argued. "Let's talk about this. When we met, you seduced me to get your way. In the end, S.H.I.E.L.D. hired you and our relationship finished. Now, you don't want me to be with Carter. Are you jealous-"

"Stop it," Natasha spat. "Why are you being like this? We put all this behind us years ago, and now you want to drag it all back out!"

"I want to know that you don't have a problem with Carter," Clint pressed. "With me being with Carter."

"Of course I have a problem with it," Natasha snapped angrily. "You're in a relationship with your mark!"

"She's not my mark anymore!"

"But she was when you started falling for her," Natasha pointed out. "Look, this isn't about jealously, Clint, and honestly, I'm furious you thought it was. This is about a bad idea. You and Carter are a bad idea. She's not even an agent yet and you want to tell her classified information-"

"She has a right to know!"

"You don't get to decide that!" Natasha's temper was beginning to rise. "Fury does, and he's decided not to tell her. You only want to tell her because you have feelings for her. If it was anyone else you'd just do as you're told, and you know that, Clint."

Clint didn't reply. He was breathing heavily, jaw clenched in anger. In all honesty, Natasha was right. They both knew it, but…

"How can she trust me," Clint said quietly. "If I keep things like this from her?"

"How can Fury trust you if you don't?"

* * *

By the time Clint finally made to Carter's room, he wasn't in the mood for talking. Between Natasha, Fury, Coulson and Hill, Clint had had enough of words and cautions and warnings and don't-you-dares. He didn't even give Carter a chance to say hello. He simply took her face between his hands and pressed a furious kiss to her mouth.

If she asked him how it went, he'd have to lie. If she asked him if he was okay, he'd have to lie. Better she just didn't ask anything, didn't say anything at all.

But Carter wasn't stupid. She knew something was wrong, he was angry or upset, and he didn't want to talk about it. So they didn't talk. She let him guide her to the bed and push her down, lips never parting, never slowing. He kissed her with such passion and raw emotion, she was almost afraid. Afraid something terrible had happened, afraid he was hurt, afraid she wouldn't be able to say no to him.

She didn't say no. She didn't say anything. When he pushed her shirt up her stomach, she didn't stop him. When he unbuttoned her jeans, she didn't stop him. When he reached behind her and unclipped her bra, she didn't stop him. Instead she reciprocated. His shirt came off, his pants slid down, her fingers dancing across his skin of their own accord.

He kept waiting for it. The 'I'm not ready'. But it never came. Carter accepted every one of his actions, letting him undress her, and reacted in kind. Their clothes came off, one garment after another, Clint's boots clattering to the floor, Carter's shirt landing beside them. Her chest was naked before him, and he devoured all he could, his tongue sliding between her breasts as she quivered under him. She gasped and moaned as his fingers rubbed against her nipples, pulling and teasing at them while his lips sucked on the tender flesh of her neck. Her hands pushed down on the hem of his boxers, her lack of reach leaving her unable to completely remove them.

Clint finished the task for her, his hands gliding straight back to her breasts, kneading and moulding them as he groaned in pleasure. Her hands were now able to touch him, her nails running along the underside of his length, the veins bulging as he ached for her. He was hard and ready, a calling in the back of his mind urging him to plunge right into her._ Just fucking take her already!_ It screamed at him. But he held back.

Her underwear still covered her most private place, the material moist from her arousal. Clint met her eyes as his fingers skimmed along the elastic band, his face serious and smouldering. She gave him a nod, her teeth baring down on her lower lip. He pulled the panties away from her, gently sliding her legs from them as she lifted her hips for him. Her breathing was heavy, the sound only adding to the heat in the room.

Carter let out a strangled cry when Clint ran his tongue against her slit. She hadn't been expecting that. Her legs instinctively tried to close, but his strong hands stopped her, gripping tight to the flesh of her thighs. He didn't stop. He couldn't. The sounds she made…how could he possibly let them fade away? His tongue knew what it was doing, probing into her and curling against her. Carter gasped and groaned, her hips rolling against Clint's face. His hands travelled from her thighs to her buttocks, his fingers pressing deep into the firm flesh as he pulled her warmth closer to him.

She spilled into his mouth as she came, crying nonsensical syllables. Clint lapped her up, loving the tang of her on his tongue. By now his member was raging with lust, throbbing painfully, desperate for attention, Carter's moans only coaxing it on. If he held himself back any longer he'd go insane, but Clint knew he was treading on thin ice. For all her strength, and all her courage, Carter was easily spooked. He had to be gentle.

He released his grip on her, his hands softly trailing up her sides to cradle her waist as he returned his lips to hers. She could taste herself on him, and it started another fire in her belly. Clint pushed and pulled against her tongue as his hips moved closer to hers. She pulled away abruptly when she felt the hardness against her, gasping.

"Shh," Clint murmured, his lips at her ear. "It's okay…it's me." Carter groaned, one of Clint's fingers now massaging against her clit.

"D-do it," she whispered, afraid, but wanting.

Clint slid a finger inside her in preparation, groaning at the tightness. Carter wasn't a virgin, he knew, but she wasn't far from it. It had been once, a long time ago, and she had regretted it. But she couldn't see herself regretting this. How could she; it was Clint.

Another finger joined the first, and then another, Carter's face tense with the uncomfortable sensation. Clint continued to whisper in her ear, his thumb tracing circles against her clit, making sure that despite the pain, she still felt the pleasure. Soon, the hurt began to fade, and Clint noticed her hips beginning to push against him in wanting. She wanted more. She was ready for more.

A gasp as he removed his fingers, followed by another as he pressed the head of his cock against her opening. Eyes shut tight, Carter waited for the pain again. Clint groaned a curse as he pushed into her. Her walls clamped down on him, a defensive reaction, but it felt so good.

"Relax," he whispered, pressing his forehead against Carter's, their sweat mixing together. "Just let me in."

It took all Carter had to relax her muscles, but she did, and Clint was able to force himself in to the hilt, exhaling heavily in lust. He stilled, Carter tense against him. His thumb took to her clit again, the unexpected pleasure causing her to jolt, bucking her hips. Clint resisted the urge to simply start jack-hammering away, pulling out as slowly as he could.

Carter sucked the air in through her teeth. How could something hurt so much, and yet she didn't want it to end. She breathed purposely as Clint began to move in and out of her as gently as he could, determined not to hurt her.

It startled both of them, when Carter suddenly moaned loudly. The pain had subsided, and she felt every muscle and tendon of Clint inside on her, the friction bringing the most immense pleasure.

"Clint," she gasped, his pace subtly speeding up. "Oh Clint, it feels so…so good."

Clint's fingers gripped her waist in response. He knew it felt good. He felt so good he could barely control himself. He smirked to himself, realising Carter suddenly didn't know what to do with her arms. She tried placing them around his neck, but he moved too much for it to be comfortable. She let them lay at her sides, but it seemed silly. She tried to tangle them in the sheets, like she had seen on television, but it didn't feel right. _Oh god,_ she thought. _I'm having sex and all I can think about is my own arms._

Clint chuckled slightly, gaining Carter's attention.

"My shoulders," he suggested, panting, sweat beading along his upper lip. Carter slid her hands up to his shoulders, gripping onto them. It felt much better. Her fingernails dug in, her mind slipping back into the ecstasy.

Now that she was comfortable, Clint's pace crept up again, his hips snapping back and forth, driving into her with more force than he intended. The primal instinct kicked in, Carter rocking her hips with his movements. Her hands slid down slightly, now pressed against the hard muscles of Clint's back. Their bodies moved of their own accord, crashing against each other passionately, Clint groaning and grunting as Carter mewled and moaned. He could feel her walls tighten around him, and his own climax was near.

As Carter cried out his name in orgasm, Clint let himself plough as deep into her as he could go, his seed pouring into her as he came loudly, cursing. As the last of his cum emptied into her, he gasped her name, hands clenching around her wrists. He hadn't even noticed when he had pulled her grip from him, holding her hands above her head, his fingers tightly coiled around her wrists. His hips pushed and pulled against her a few more times, riding out the last of her spasms, before letting himself fall on top of her.

"Fuck," he panted, his face resting in the crook of her neck. "Fuck, Carter, that was…" He trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how he was feeling. "Fuck," he simply said again.

He rolled off her onto his back, pulling her with him so she was flush against him, one arm holding her close, the other caressing her face. Her sweat soaked hair clung to her skin, her face flushed and glowing.

"Clint," she whispered, her voice hoarse with over use. She was smiling as her eyes drooped closed, exhausted, but satisfied.

"You look amazing right now," he murmured. "You look…beautiful."


	19. Chapter Eighteen After Glow

**This could be considered Chapter Seventeen Part II, but I wanted to devote a chapter purely to the two of them bonding. The events of last update were completely unplanned, I originally had Clint avoiding Carter, but it didn't feel right. The thing to remember is that they're in a somewhat extreme situation, and their relationship has to reflect that.**

**Anyway, enjoy this one as we get some last threads wrapped up before the plot gets serious.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Eighteen - After Glow

"I remember the fire breathers most," Clint was saying, one hand slowly trailing up and down Carter's waist as she cuddled up to him. "The flames would shoot from their mouths, or I thought it did, and they would bend and twist into all these shapes, still blowing out this fire!" Carter chuckled quietly.

"Was it scary?" She asked, looking up at him as they lay. "People spitting out fire?"

"Not really," Clint replied with a slight shrug. "But I grew up with it, maybe if I'd never seen it before it…"

"Do you miss it?"

"Fire breathers?"

"The carnival!" Carter gave Clint a nudge in the ribs as he sniggered at her.

"Ah, the Carson Carnival of Travelling Wonders," Clint sighed. "No," he then said. "I don't miss it at all. This life is more than I ever dreamed of, back then I was just a runaway orphan, now…well, I kill bad guys for a living, I get some awesome weapons, and…now, you're here." Carter blushed, hiding her face in Clint's chest. "What about you?" Clint asked. "There's a lot I don't know, despite S.H.I.E.L.D.'S digging on you."

"Like what?" Carter murmured. _What about your mother? _He nearly asked.

"How did you escape N-GES back then?" He said instead. "When you were a kid?"

"Uh…" Carter pulled away from Clint, moving into a sitting position, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. "I was kept in a cell when I wasn't being experimented on. I knew I was strong, but I was always kept drugged, so I never tried to break out but. Then I got a bit older, and the tranquilisers didn't affect me as much. The white coats never noticed. I knew I only had one shot, so I waited until I was sure, then overpowered the guards when they came to take me to the lab. Getting out was actually pretty easy after that."

"Where did you go?" Clint asked, leaning up beside her, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Don't know," she replied, shaking her head. "I ran for days, maybe weeks, never stopping. Then I woke up in an alleyway one day, starved and weak. I had no choice but to steal food, clothes, money, anything I could to survive."

"I read a report," Clint said softly, thinking back. "That you were caught shoplifting."

"I only vaguely remember that," Carter admitted, her head hung low. "Someone grabbed me, and then I'm in a bed, with needles, but too tired to do anything about it. There was a man, leaning over me, inspecting me. I knew his face, I remembered his teeth. Seems a strange thing to remember, but he had this filthy smile, yellow teeth, crooked and cracked, always baring down on me with knives and scalpels." Carter shivered, her hands rubbing her arms under the blanket. "I couldn't speak, move, and then he was gone. And so was I. A house in the country, I hid the barn. Maybe I slept for a while…I'm not sure, really. But I do remember realising I couldn't be Carter Thomas anymore."

"So you changed your name," Clint filled in. He sat up properly, resting his back against the head board of the bed, pulling Carter into his lap, hands encircling her waist.

"Yeah," she sighed, resting her head against his. "Penny Alton was first, I think. An elderly couple took me in for a few months, but someone around town started asking them questions about me, so I ran. Been repeating the pattern ever since."

"Oh, Carter," Clint mumbled into her hair.

"Now, I'm here," she finished, forcing some cheer into her voice. "With you," she added, looping her hands around his neck. Clint smiled, kissing her gently. "How did you join S.H.I.E.L.D.?" She then questioned.

"You didn't read my file?" Clint asked, frowning slightly. Carter shook her head.

"I was going to," she said. "But…I'd rather hear it from you."

"It's a long story," Clint began, closing his eyes as he thought back. "But…I was a sort of renegade after I left the carnival, stopping petty criminals when I came across them, started calling myself 'Hawkeye', running amok with a bow and arrow. One day I met Natasha, who was working for some bad guys. She…tricked me…talked me into some things I regret, and then abandoned me, but I crossed paths with S.H.I.E.L.D. along the way. They wanted to take me on, and not long later Natasha joined too." He sighed, a smile working it's way to his face. "I was actually sent to kill her, but…I could see the good in her, despite our first meeting, maybe because of our first meeting. Funny how things work out, huh?"

"Yeah," Carter agreed, biting her lip. "You and Natasha…you were…together, weren't you?"

"In the beginning, yeah," Clint admitted, his jaw tensing. He was still annoyed at her for siding with Fury earlier. "She…seduced me, I guess. But it didn't last long, and never really…amounted to anything."

"Is it weird working with her?"

"It was a long time ago," Clint sighed. "And Fury kept us apart for a while. Now…it's just in the past." Carter made a 'hmm' kind of noise. "Hey," Clint laughed, realising. "Are you jealous?"

"No," Carter pouted, looking away from him. "Just…curious."

"Liar," Clint grinned, pulling her face to his. "Liar." He cut off her rebuttals with a kiss, running his tongue along her lower lip. "Don't be jealous," he whispered. "It's you I want."

"Good," Carter stated with a smirk. "Because it's me you have."

The talking stopped for a while, Carter and Clint engaged in a slow lazy kiss. The two were still naked from their love making, fingers gliding across each other's skin as they kissed. Clint was very aware he had yet to explore Carter's body fully, looking forward to finding all her sweet spots. Where was she ticklish? What made her squirm? He couldn't wait until he had it all memorized.

Carter had no such intentions. She was new to the majority of it. Her only experience with a man was brief and disappointing. There had been no cuddling and canoodling, no exploring or teasing. Just a teenage boy with one goal in mind. Clint was so far from that, Carter was out of her depth. She didn't know all the things she had to look forward to, or the games lovers could play.

_Lovers._ Is that what they were now? Carter had no idea. It had started off so simple. Kisses between two people who were still getting to know each other. Now they had slept together, so passionately, so suddenly, and Carter knew she cared for Clint more deeply then she had anticipated. Did he care for her the same way? Dare she ask? It was more than she knew how to handle, so she just continued to kiss him, her lips on fire against his.

Clint, on the other hand, had no questions in his mind. Carter was his now. After what they had just shared, there was no way she could be anything else. Girlfriend, lover, partner, companion, cohort, Clint didn't care, as long as 'his' was put in front of it. He was crazy about her, and she clearly felt the same, he could read her easily. Which is how he knew she worried. Even now, held tightly against him, mouths slanted together, he could feel her anxiety, all the things running through her mind. He had to appease her, put her fears to rest.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling away for a moment, one hand resting comfortably on the nape of her neck. "You're mine now, you know that, right?"

"Your's?" She questioned in reply, her voice low and lusty.

"Mine," he confirmed, pressing his forehead against hers. "My girl. And I'm your man."

"Why do you get to be a man?" Carter asked, her lips smiling. "And I'm just a girl?"

"Because I like saying 'my girl'," Clint chuckled. "'Woman' is such a mouthful."

"_You're_ such a mouthful," Carter retorted, smacking him on the chest.

Clint just pushed his lips back onto hers, kissing her deeply and lovingly. Carter giggled, leaning into him. She was perfectly content with her new status as 'Clint Barton's Girl'.

The two melted into each other again as the night came, the events of the past twenty four hours catching up with both of them. It was with a heavy heart they finally ceased kissing, and lay down, limbs entangled and sheets askew. The last thing Carter saw before her eyes slowly fell closed, was Clint's peaceful face as he dreamed silently, all his thoughts of her.


	20. Chapter Nineteen Stark Tower

**And it is revealed! Although I'm sure a lot of you already figured he was up to something like this.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Nineteen - Stark Tower

The weeks passed slowly. Carter spent her mornings with Steve, strength and endurance training. Afternoons were with Clint or Fury, weapons handling. Coulson took up her evenings, lecturing her on the history of S.H.I.E.L.D. And her nights were her own, though she happily shared most of them with Clint.

Once a week, she met with Bruce, who checked her blood levels, constantly monitoring the static that resided there. Tony tended to be present in the lab, always poking and prodding her, measuring this and that. Whenever Carter managed to get a word in to question what he was doing, he only replied 'nothing'.

Until one day, Carter was summoned to Fury's office.

"Yeah, boss?" She asked, as she entered the room, having becoming more familiar with the Director. "What's up?"

"You're going on a trip," Fury told her, earning him a look of confusion. "Stark's requested your presence."

"I'm allowed to leave?"

"You're no longer a prisoner, Miss Thomas," Fury reminded her with a small smile. "You can leave when you wish, provided you don't neglect your training."

"Wow, excellent," Carter grinned. "Where am I going then?"

"Stark has been working in his tower nearby while you've been here," Fury said, handing Carter a file with the details. "A car will be taking you there, it's not far."

"How long for?" Carter asked, her eyes skimming through the tower details.

"Start didn't say," Fury said. "But, I'm sure you'll be back by tonight." Fury rose from his desk, walking Carter to the door, holding it open for her. "Not that I doubt your abilities," he then said to her. "But keep in mind that Stark can be a handful."

"I can handle him," Carter promised Fury. "I just wanna know what he's been up to."

* * *

"That…is…**tall**…" Carter gaped at the size of the Stark Tower as the car approached the building. Stretching monumentally high into the sky, it was hard to miss. "I'm not going to the top, am I?" Carter asked the driver, Karl, fearfully.

"Can't say, miss," he replied, pulling into the lay by. "But I imagine the view's pretty good from up there."

"Just don't look down," Carter mumbled to herself. She reached her hand out, but the door was pulled open from the outside before she had a chance. "Uh…hi?" She said, looking up at a smartly dressed doorman. "I'm Carter Thomas."

"Mr Stark is expecting you, Miss Thomas," the doorman informed her, offering a hand to help her out the car. She accepted it hesitantly, frowning. "This way, please."

Carter followed the man into a lobby bigger than five of her rooms put together, glimmering and shimmering with wealth. _Oh, crap, _she found herself thinking. _I better not break anything._ She was led into an elevator, the doorman swiping a key card before exiting, leaving her alone when the doors shut.

"Hey!" She yelled, realising what was happening. Her stomach jolted when the small cubicle shot upwards, propelling her towards the upper floors. "Oh, man." Carter didn't have much experience of elevators, but she decided quickly that she wasn't a fan. The doors didn't open a second too soon, Carter bolting into the open plan room as quickly as she could. The doors closed behind her again, and Carter couldn't resist sticking her tongue out at them, hearing the elevator begin to zoon back down.

"That's mature," Tony laughed, watching Carter from a comfy looking armchair, drink swirling in one hand. She turned to face him, smirking sarcastically. "Glad you made it, by the way, wasn't sure Fury'd let his new protégé out to play."

"Cute," Carter chuckled at the rhyme, Tony downing the rest of his drink. "He didn't tell me what you wanted."

"I didn't tell him," Tony shrugged, setting down his empty glass and standing up. "You want a drink? I've got some of the fruity ones girls seem to like…somewhere."

"No, thanks." Carter shook her head. Even though she couldn't get drunk, she didn't trust Tony not to have some super powered alcohol that worked on her. "What _do_ you want?"

"I think I'll have another bourbon," Tony replied, sauntering over to the bar at the back of the room. He pulled out a new scotch glass, pouring himself a new one.

"That's not what I meant," Carter sighed, plopping down onto the couch tiredly.

"I've been working on something," Tony then said seriously, catching her attention. "Something for you, actually. Needs a few minor tweaks, couple of personal preferences, but it's ready for a field test."

"What is it?" Carter asked. Tony just grinned, picking up a remote and pointing it at the far wall. He clicked a button and the glass panels in the wall slowly turned, revealing the project he had been so determined to show Carter.

"Oh…wow…" She whispered, standing to approach the wall.

It was a uniform, slim and sleek, made to tailor her body. The material was black, figure hugging, but sturdy. Thin neon blue streaks decorated the suit, one down either arm, either leg, and down each of the sides of the waist. As Carter stepped closer, she noticed the streaks weren't simply decoration, they seemed to glow.

"Harnesses the static in your blood," Tony suddenly spoke up, enjoying the awe on Carter's face. He pressed another button on the remote, the glass casing swinging open, allowing Carter to examine the suit in more detail. "It's pretty impressive technology," Tony continued. "If I do say so myself, which I do; it's impressive. But the piece de resistance…will not be revealed until you're dressed. So, hop to it!"

"What?"

"Get dressed!" Tony repeated, turning his back. "I won't look."

"You have cameras!" Carter pointed out, causing Tony to chuckle.

"Glad to hear you've started watching out for them," he drawled, twirling back to her. "There's actually a bathroom through here-" Tony indicated to the door. "-no cameras, I swear."

Twenty minutes later, Carter had finally gotten the suit into place, unused to the tight nature of the fabric. _Clint'll love this_, she grinned to herself, examining her form in the mirror. Carter had always been lean, but she'd never been more toned, her training really doing wonders for her posture. When she re-entered the main room, Tony let out a whistle, mentally scolding himself for checking her out.

"Thanks," Carter sniggered, face flushing under his gaze.

"You're welcome, kid," Tony replied. "Now, c'mere." He beckoned her over to where he was sitting on the couch, leaning forward to flip the clamps on a large metal case.

"What's in there?" She asked cautiously, peering over his shoulder.

"Gauntlets," Tony replied, pulling one from the padded casing.

Carter watched as Tony strapped one, then the other to her forearms. The gauntlets connected to the underside of her arms, the suit seeming to channel the blue glowing lines into them. Tony had said the lines harnessed the electricity in her blood, did that mean that the gauntlets were now powered?

"Look," Tony said, showing Carter a small panel on the top each gauntlet. "When activated these panels open, there's a laser underneath. It's strength depends on you. Once you've learned how, you'll be able to fire lasers however powerful you want. It could burn wood, cut metal, or even kill, if you wanted."

"Whoa," Carter whispered.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Just don't aim them at me." Carter giggled, grinning at the Iron Man. "You see these lines?" Tony then asked, running his index finger down the neon blue stripe on Carter's arm. "Electro-magnets. You'll be able to power them too, preventing someone from grabbing you, shocking them if they tried. Once again, you could simply stun them, or utterly fry them, up to you." Carter laughed nervously, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Holy crap," she managed to squeak out.

"But my favourite part," Tony smirked, taking Carter's right hand and turning it to see the palm. "These." The suit ended in an attached pair of fingerless gloves, the palm of each with a panel of the blue electro-magnet. "With these you can channel your electricity into any conductive material you want, for example…" Tony trailed off, reaching into the case again, this time pulling out a pair of daggers. "…these."

The daggers were a work of art. They gleamed in the light, intricate symbols decorating the length of the blades. But it was the handles that were interesting. They curved slightly, coated in black felt, save for a bare section that, when held, connected with the electro-magnets in Carter's palm. She would be able to wield electrified daggers.

"So…what do you think?" Tony asked, grinning. Carter's expression was overwhelmed. She had definitely not been expecting anything like this, let alone **all** of this!

"I don't know what to say," she eventually got out, looking up at Tony as he stood, returning to the bar to retrieve his drink. "It's amazing. It's all amazing. I can't believe you did this…don't you have a job?"

"Self-employed," Tony shrugged. "You like them, then?"

"Y-yeah," Carter laughed. "Are you insane, of course I do!" She picked up the daggers, making slow slashing movements with them. "Will Fury let me keep them?" She then asked, remembering how strict the director could be.

"He's training you to be an agent," Tony reasoned. "I can't imagine he'd object to you having a bit of a bite."

"Guess not," Carter mused.

"Exactly!" Tony clapped his hands together loudly. "Now, get changed, let's go celebrate!"

"What do you mean celebrate?" Carter asked, heading back to the bathroom.

"I mean, there's a dress waiting for you in there, and the team are waiting for us in the club."

"A dress? Where are my clothes?" Carter demanded, her previous attire having disappeared from the floor where she had left it.

"Oh, have they vanished?" Tony asked innocently. "Oh well, I guess you're stuck with the dress then."

"I could kill you, Tony Stark!" Carter called, slamming the bathroom door shut.

"Thanks to me," Tony muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Good job, Tony. Power her up, then piss her off."


	21. Chapter Twenty The Morning After

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty - The Morning After

_Too bright_, Clint winced to himself as he peeled his eyes open. _Too fucking bright._ He mentally cursed himself for rising to bait when had Natasha teased him about his light beers. She was Russian, she was used to the strong stuff, but Clint…not so much. The vodka had stung his throat and made his eyes water, but he fearlessly downed one after another, determined to prove a point. _Point made, you stupid asshole._

Clenching his eyes shut, he rolled onto his side, one arm sliding over the bed in search of Carter. When he found nothing, he sighed in relief. He didn't want her to see him in such a state; he was a grown man, not some inexperienced teenager, but this hangover…it was killing him.

_She did this on purpose_, he decided, thoughts drifting back to Natasha. _Wanting to show me up in front of my girl._ Maybe he deserved it; he hadn't really spoken to her much since the rescue mission. She might not have been jealous of Carter, but she certainly wasn't happy with her, and Clint couldn't be bothered with another argument. In all honesty, he had been surprised she had agreed to go out with the gang last night, though Tony could be fairly persuasive when he wanted.

_Tony,_ Clint grinned to himself. _I owe you one, man. _When the billionaire had entered the private club, Carter at his side, Clint's jaw had nearly dropped. Somehow, Tony had gotten her into a gorgeous knee-length dress, a royal blue colour that clung to her lean body perfectly. The straps wrapped around her neck, halter style, the cut of it leaving a portion of her back bare. She looked amazing, even Bruce and Steve complimented her.

Steve. That's where Carter would be. Even the morning after one hell of a night, the two would be training religiously in the S.H.I.E.L.D. gym. _Though I guess neither of them would be hung-over in the slightest,_ he realised. Carter and Steve shared a few traits, one in particular being their practical immunity to alcohol. Neither had gotten drunk, so neither were suffering in the aftermath. Clint felt a pang of jealousy, but ignored it; the two had suffered enough to become who they were, it was only fair they got some perks out of it.

Bruce had been interesting though. He had clearly avoided things like alcohol, afraid of losing control and…well, _losing control_, but Tony had convinced him one drink wouldn't hurt. Then another. By the time the six of them had called it a night, Bruce was rosy cheeked and merrily singing to himself, a constant smiled plastered across his face. Natasha had giggled at him, causing the doctor to blush heavily, but the singing just got louder. _Wonder how he's doing this morning,_ Clint thought with a grin.

Tony had, of course, been everything Clint had expected on a night out. Used to alcohol, heavy drinking and expensive clubs, the man had been in his element, partying his way through to the early hours of the morning. At one point, he had taken over from the DJ, dedicating songs to each of them in turn, though Clint could only remember Queen's Don't Stop Me Now in honour of Bruce finally letting his hair down. He chuckled at the memory, rolling onto his back and cracking his eyes open again.

A note on the table next to the bed caught his attention, and he reached over, unfolding the paper.

_I assumed you'd be sleeping it off all morning, so I didn't wanna wake you. I'm at the gym with Steve, come down at some point and let me know you're alive._

_Carter X_

_Ps- I got you some water and painkillers, Bruce said they'd help. He's feeling pretty rough too._

Clint sighed, placing the note back down and picking up the pills, chucking them into his mouth before downing the entire glass of water waiting for him. He knew he should head down to the gym and see Carter, but…

It was strange, but he was a little jealous of Steve. No matter what, there would always be a part of Carter that Steve understood better than Clint ever could, and it burned his heart to know that. Clint had been orphaned, he had been a runaway, he had been betrayed and lost, he had been a bad guy and a good guy, but he had never, and would never, be a super soldier, and he'd never be able to empathise with that part of Carter's life.

_God, get it together, Barton,_ he scolded himself. _Nobody ever died of jealousy._ Hoisting himself out of the bed, he decided to shower and get some breakfast. He'd visit Carter later.

* * *

"You should see it, Steve," Carter said happily, towel slung around her shoulder. They had finished their training, and Carter had been attempting to describe her new suit to Steve.

"Is Fury letting you keep it?" Steve asked, knowing how strict the director could be. Carter sighed.

"I haven't asked yet," she admitted, not feeling too optimistic. "But I was gonna go see him later today…" She trailed off, looking up at Steve hopefully.

"What? You want me to come with you?"

"No, but could you…um, vouch for me?" Carter requested shyly, gaze dropping to her feet. "You know, tell Fury he can trust me with the suit and stuff?"

"Well, can he?" Steve asked.

"Yes!"

"Okay, okay!" Steve laughed, Carter's face outraged. "I'll talk to him."

"Talk to who?" Clint questioned as he entered the room, only catching the end of the conversation.

"Fury," Carter replied, bounding over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Hiya," she then greeted him. "I'm gonna ask Fury about the uniform Tony made me, and if I can keep it. Steve's gonna vouch for me."

"Cool," Clint said, sounding happier about that than he felt. "You need me to talk to him as well?"

"Uh…I don't think so," Carter replied carefully. "It's just…since we're together…I'm not sure Fury would…he might think you're biased, you know?" Clint forced a smile, hands in his pockets.

"You're right," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Don't worry, Clint," Steve then spoke up, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of Fury." Clint watched as Carter and Steve said their goodbyes, Steve exiting the gym.

"You okay?" Carter then asked, turning back to him.

"'Course," Clint shrugged, pushing the jealous thoughts away again. "Just came to see if you wanted to go somewhere for lunch, now that Fury's letting you out of the compound."

"Yeah, sounds great," Carter enthused. "Just let me shower first."

* * *

"So…" Carter suddenly said, changing the subject as they chatted over lunch.

"So…?" Clint prompted, wondering what was on her mind.

"So…you're jealous of Steve?" Carter asked, causing Clint to choke as he took a sip of his water.

"Well…uh," he stammered, wiping his mouth. "…You're jealous of Natasha!" He accused, the only thing coming to mind. Carter rolled her eyes. "All right…yes, a little. It's just…" Clint sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "The two of you have this…_connection _that you and I don't."

"And you and Natasha have something similar," Carter pointed out with a shrug.

"I know," Clint groaned, running a hand through his hair. "That's kind of the problem…Tash and I were so…_intense_…"

"You're scared I'm gonna run off with Steve?" Carter was almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it. "Oh, Clint! Steve's…he's like a uncle…like a dad."

"A dad?"

"Yes!" Carter insisted, unable to stop grinning. Reaching over the table, she grabbed Clint's hands, squeezing them comfortingly. "Come on, Clint, smile!" Begrudgingly, a small smile began to creep across his face. "Aha, there you go!"

"Shut up," he muttered, feeling both relieved and embarrassed.

"Silly little boy," Carter scolded him, slapping the top of his hands gently. Clint was about to reply when his phone started ringing. Across the table, Carter's was making noise as well. They shared a look, before both turning away to answer. Different voices relayed them the same message.

"_Director Fury requires your presence in the briefing room immediately."_


	22. Chapter Twenty One Briefing

**Sorry for the delay with this one, but life got a bit hectic. Did everyone see the new trailer for The Bourne Legacy? Let's all be jealous of Rachel Weisz together, shall we?**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty One - Briefing

Natasha and Steve were already in the briefing room when Carter and Clint arrived. They were both tense, but eagerly awaiting their orders. The two of them belonged in the field; civilian life was far too monotonous for them.

"Carter?" Steve exclaimed, seeing her enter the room. "You were called too?"

"Yup," she replied with a nod.

"Maybe this mission isn't as serious as I thought," Natasha mused, Carter frowning at the implication.

"Quite the contrary, Agent Romanoff," Fury suddenly stated, striding briskly through the door, Coulson and Maria on his heels. "We have an urgent matter on our hands, people. A hostage situation with grave importance."

Fury stepped up to the head of the table the team were sat around, his fellow agents flanking him. He nodded to Maria, who then pressed some buttons on her tablet, a revolving hologram appearing in the centre of the desk.

"An hour ago we received a distress signal from one of our agents in the field," Maria informed them all. "Agent Sitwell has been working undercover for two months, attempting to gain information regarding N-GES's current operations. We believe his cover was blown three days ago, though we've yet to discover how. He is now being held hostage under ransom."

"What's the ransom?" Steve asked. "Money?"

"Information," Maria replied. "For the data he supplied to us, his captors are demanding we deliver them plans of the helicarrier, several weapon mods and the blueprints for every piece of technology we use to train our agents. As you can imagine, we can't afford such valuable information to reach an organisation such as N-GES."

"That's where you come in," Fury took over. "I need a team to infiltrate the base, recover Sitwell, and secure his safety, delivering him back to headquarters." He then turned his attention to the hologram, still slowly turning in the air. "This is the building complex Sitwell is being held in. As you can see-" The entrance became highlighted, Fury zooming in on it. "-there is only one way in; the front door."

"You want us to knock, sir?" Clint quipped, smirking as he folded his arms over his chest.

"You'll be our eyes, Barton," Fury replied, ignoring the joke. "Up high, and alert. Take out every guard you have to, and secure the perimeter." Clint nodded. "Romanoff, you'll enter through the front door, create a diversion while Rogers and Thomas blast their way in through the back." Carter's stomach lurched; she was really being sent out on a mission! "The three of you will meet here-" Fury highlighted another part of the hologram, a corridor leading to a stairwell. "-and head down to the sub-levels. Judging from our tracker, Agent Sitwell is being held here-" Another highlighted room, far beneath the surface. "-and is most likely heavily guarded, so stay on your toes. Getting out will be the hard part. Barton, once the others have Sitwell, you'll make your way into the building and clear out the guards on the surface and upper stairwell, leaving the way clear for escape. Return to the quinjet as swiftly as possible and get her in the air before they have time to get the big guns out, is that clear?"

"Got it, boss," Natasha said, Steve and Carter replying in a similar fashion. Only Clint said nothing, his face tense.

"Is there a problem, Agent Barton?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. Clint sighed, trying to shake his head, but he couldn't do it.

"Carter's not an agent, sir," he choked out against his better judgement, looking Fury dead in the eye. "She's not ready for this."

"What?" Carter's voice nearly shrieked.

"Agent Barton," Fury drawled tiredly, knowing this was coming. "I assure you, we have taken into account Miss Thomas's limited training, but I have no doubt she can handle this."

"She's never been in the field before," Clint argued. "She needs practice missions before undertaking something like this, she doesn't have the right preparations."

"Clint!" Carter snapped at him, her heart kicking brutally against her chest at his doubts. "I can do this."

"She's never killed without provocation," Clint continued, his own heart heavy as he voiced his concerns, knowing how much he was hurting her with each word. "And never worked as part of a team. This mission is too important to risk using an untrained agent." _And if something happens to her…I don't know what I'd do._

"Clint," this time it was Steve that spoke up, his voice calm. "I understand what you're saying, but she **is **ready."

"You can't know that without-"

"Agent Barton," Fury interrupted, his tone becoming frustrated. "We need a team of four agents for this mission. Stark is too flamboyant, Banner too unpredictable, and we need a subtle and controlled team to recover Sitwell. If Thomas thinks she can handle it, then she's going."

"I can handle it," Carter promised, nodding curtly. "I swear I can do this."

"Then that's settled," Fury decided, halting any further protests from Clint. "Suit up, you leave in two hours. And Miss Thomas?" Carter looked up at him questionably. "Mr Stark delivered your suit this morning, time to give it a test run."

"Yessir!" Carter grinned, unable to hide her happiness. She was allowed to keep the suit! She didn't even have to argue her case like she thought.

"Captain Rogers seems to think you're trustworthy," Fury then stated as he left, Coulson and Maria following once again. "Don't let him down."

"I won't, sir," she called after him. The door slid closed, leaving the team alone.

"Carter," Clint began, attempting to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Save it," she cut him off immediately, slapping his hand away. "I can't believe you'd do that to me!"

"I only-"

"You doubted me," she snapped. "You don't think I'm ready, and everyone had to hear it."

"Just listen-"

"No, **you** listen!" Carter rose from her seat, prodding Clint in the chest angrily. "Maybe you do believe in me, maybe you do think I'm ready, maybe you just don't want me to get hurt, but guess what? I'm part of S.H.I.E.L.D. now and I **will** get hurt eventually, that doesn't matter. What matters is you're supposed to have my back and you don't. Fuck you, Clint."

Carter stormed out before Clint could reply, Steve giving him an apologetic look before chasing after her. Clint flopped into a seat heavily, groaning. Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes.

"For what it's worth," she said casually. "You're right. Carter should have more experience in the field before being sent on a mission like this, and if I honestly thought that was the reason you don't want her to come, I'd be proud of you."

"Proud?" Clint scoffed.

"It would've meant you could put your feelings for her aside and be objective about the mission," Natasha explained. "But since you just don't want her to get hurt, then you obviously can't." She paused for a moment, shaking her head. "Maybe it's you who shouldn't be on this mission."

"Maybe," Clint muttered. _This is gonna be a rough one_.

* * *

Carter slipped her suit on slowly, her mind still pouring over Clint's words. How could he say those things? Even if they were true, he shouldn't have informed the entire team of his doubts. What if they all doubted her now too? She's prove them wrong, she had to. If she wanted to be a respected agent, she had to forget about Clint, focus on the mission.

_Easier said than done_, she thought angrily. Last time she wore this suit all she could think about was Clint's reaction when he saw her, now she was dreading it. _It doesn't matter_, she told herself. _There's more important things to worry about_. Her thoughts went back to the briefing. This Agent Sitwell was in danger, and Carter felt somehow responsible. He had been investigating N-GES, most likely because of her, and now he had been caught. If he died…she'd never forgive herself.

_Maybe that's why Fury put me on the team,_ she suddenly thought. _He knew I'd blame myself, and that I'd want to help._ It was no use lingering here, she decided, her suit in place, daggers sheathed on her lower back, gauntlets fastened tight.

She exited her room, making her way to the landing strip where they were to meet. Maybe Clint was right, maybe she wouldn't be able to kill, but she'd never forgive herself if she didn't try. She'd give this mission her all, and maybe afterwards, she'd be a full fledged agent.

_Or maybe I'll screw up and get us all killed._


	23. Chapter Twenty Two Breaking And Entering

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Two - Breaking And Entering

It didn't take Clint long to find the perfect advantage point. Natasha, Carter and Steve were all already in position, waiting for him to take out the guards on patrol. He quickly shimmied up the nearby drain pipe, and swung himself onto the fire escape. A few moments and a few dozen stairs later, he was in position, bow in hand, arrow notched.

Loosing one after another, he swiftly and silently disposed of the guards.

"Perimeter secure," he informed the others through his comm. "Tash, you're good to move in."

"Got it," came the reply.

Natasha made her way to the entrance, hacking the door console with ease. She slipped inside, relaying her position to Steve and Carter.

"Let's do this," Steve said. He lowered the bag he was carrying, unzipping it to reveal four small bombs, designed to blast through the back wall. Together, the two of them attached the devices to the surface of the wall in a square pattern, and activated the timers. "Stand back."

The timers ticked down five seconds, Steve and Carter quickly diving into cover, before detonating, completely blowing a hole through to the inner corridors. Natasha had already set off the alarms, drawing the majority of security to her position. Steve and Carter raced down the corridor, before coming across the first wave of guards heading for their position.

"This is it," Steve said to Carter, raising his shield. "You ready?"

"God, I hope so," she replied, her stomach in knots. Every fight she had ever been in had been a matter of instinct, but now she had training; she could do this.

Steve sent the first guard flying with a well timed strike from his shield, and the next he simply threw a punch, knocking him out cold. One after another, they came at him, posing no problems at all for the experienced soldier.

Carter, however, had trouble timing her blows. For every hit she landed, she received one in turn, the guards taking advantage of her turned back. As hard as she tried, she couldn't get into the same rhythm as Steve. She slashed one man's throat, but the next slammed a fist into her gut before she could act. A shot from her laser took him down, but another guard swept her to the ground as she searched for a new target. She cried out in pain and frustration when yet another guard landed a blow, a bullet tearing through her upper arm.

"Carter!" Steve yelled, tossing guards aside to get to her. "Are you okay?" He asked, pulling her to him.

"Bullet," she bit out, teeth clenched tight. Steve wrapped an arm around her, his shield positioned on it so it would protect her, and pulled out his handgun, firing shots at the last of the oncoming guards. "Dammit," Carter cursed, Steve releasing her as the final man fell. They both turned their attention to her wound. The bullet had embedded deep in the flesh, blood pouring down her arm.

"We need to get it out," Steve told her.

"How?" Carter asked, her head spinning.

"Well, unless Stark built a pair of tweezers into that suit," Steve said. "I'll have to do it by hand."

"God," Carter moaned. She shook her head determinedly. "Do it. Now, before I change my mind." Steve nodded, quickly grasping Carter's upper arm in one hand, digging the index finger and thumb of the other into the wound. The bullet was deep, Carter squirming in pain as the captain worked it out. Soon enough, it clattered to the floor, Steve's fingers drenched in blood.

"You're thinking too much," he then said, wiping the blood on his chest.

"What?"

"It all comes naturally," he continued. "In battle, you just act. Stop thinking about what you need to do, and just do it." Carter nodded, stretching out her arm. The pain had begun to lessen already.

"Let's go," she said.

They continued down the hallway, hearing gunshots as they neared Natasha's location. Steve rushed ahead to her aid, Carter hanging back to watch for more guards.

"'bout time you two showed up," Natasha called over the gunfire, her twin pistols firing away, taking down guard after guard.

"You seemed to be handling it just fine," Steve quipped, joining her, knocking away stray guards that got too close.

"Where's Carter?" Natasha asked, lowering her guns, running out of targets. Steve slammed his shield into the last one, before turning to reply.

"She's-" The arrival of more men interrupted him, and the two returned to the fight.

Carter's eyes roamed the halls, her back to Steve and Natasha. A door on her right flew open, half a dozen guards charging at her. She readied herself, before remembering Steve's instructions.

"Stop thinking," she whispered to herself. "Just do it." Letting out a breath she didn't realise she was holding, the tension vanished from her body, and she mind suddenly became clear.

When the first guard raised his gun, Carter's laser shot it out of his hand, Carter herself spinning in close, slashing at him with her daggers. Before he had even touched the ground, she moved to the next guard, sheathing her daggers, and slamming her elbow into the crook of his neck, forcing him to the ground. As guard number three grabbed at her, she raised one arm, charging the electro-magnets, shocking him when his hand touched it.

"Oh, I like these," Carter grinned, powering up the rest of the suit, and running at the remaining guards. The two she collided with were immediately stunned, dropping to the ground unconscious, leaving her with one last man. "Hi," she greeted him cheerfully, this time charging her daggers. As he came at her, she danced out of the way, thrusting both daggers into his back, electricity pouring into him. He slumped to the floor with the rest, Carter punching the air in the victory. "Ha!"

"Well done," Natasha's voice startled her, face flushing in embarrassment. "If you're finished celebrating…" The agent continued down the corridor.

"Told you," Steve chuckled, clapping Carter on the shoulder. "Oww!" He hissed, whipping his hand back.

"Sorry," Carter said sheepishly. "Suit's still all electrified." She powered it back down; it wouldn't do to hurt her team mates if they so much as brushed up against her.

"Come on." Carter followed behind Steve as he chased after Natasha.

She was already at the stairwell when the two of them caught up.

"Are you okay?" She asked Carter, noticing the blood still oozing from her wound.

"Yeah," Carter replied with a shrug. "Took a bullet, but the pain's not too bad now that someone's pulled his fingers out."

"Hey, we needed to remove the bullet-"

"Here," Natasha cut Steve off, pulling out a small syringe. She took hold of Carter's arm, plunging the needle in. "It's a fairly potent painkiller," she informed Carter as she pressed down on the plunger. "In ten seconds you won't feel a thing." She withdrew the needle, Carter already feeling the affects.

"Thanks," she mumbled, poking the wound, feeling nothing.

"Let's go."

As they descended down the stairs, Clint finally spoke up. He had heard everything, and it had taken all he had not to just to rushing in to Carter's aid. Even just keeping quiet when he heard her scream was difficult, but he had done it. Natasha would be proud.

"It's all quiet up top," he told them, Carter jumping at the sudden voice in her ear. "How's Carter?"

"Pain free," Natasha replied before Carter could. "Now, unless it's an emergency, get off the line."

"I'm just checking on my girl-"

"_Your girl_ is fine," Natasha said through gritted teeth. "Now, be quiet!"

The three arrived at the lower levels as Clint fell silent. Natasha pulled out a device, homing in on Agent Sitwell's tracking signal. She beckoned Steve and Carter to follow as she led the way, her footsteps much quieter than the two super soldiers. The hallway was quiet, no guards seemed to be on duty down here, and it didn't look like they were being followed. Carter was uneasy, and she wasn't the only one.

"Where are they?" Steve questioned in a whisper, saying out loud what they all had been thinking.

"Could we have killed them all?" Carter suggested, keeping her voice low.

"Unlikely," Natasha replied. "They had to have known we were coming, they would've brought in reinforcements by now."

"Then where are they?" Carter asked.

"I don't know," was all Natasha could say.

The corridor ended in a heavily secured door, which proved to be no trouble for Natasha. Her fingers tapped away swiftly, hacking the console the same way she had done earlier, the double doors swinging open, allowing them entrance.

The room was large, and mostly empty, save for Agent Sitwell himself, gagged and bound to a chair in the centre of the room. His face was bruised and bloody, one eye swollen shut.

"Jasper!" Natasha called, rushing over to him. He was conscious, but extremely dazed, his eyes barely focusing as Natasha cut him loose, removing the gag.

"A-agent Rom-Romanoff," he stuttered, his voice slurred.

"It's okay," she soothed him curtly. "We're getting you out of here." She beckoned Steve over, who slung Sitwell up onto his shoulder. "Clint," Natasha then said into her comm. "We've got him, secure the upper levels, we're heading back."

"Yes, ma'am," came Clint's reply, Carter unable to hide a grin at the cheerfulness of his tone. _I'm still mad at him, though_, she told herself. _Still mad_.

Natasha nodded to the two of them, and turned back to the door, leading Steve out. Carter made to follow, but stopped, a beeping noise catching her attention.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, turning to find the source. Already through the doors, Natasha and Steve watched as Carter tipped over the chair Sitwell had been sitting on.

"What is it?" Steve called over. Carter knelt down, tugging the beeping watch from the bottom of the chair.

"A watch," she mused. The numbers were counting down, three seconds to go.

"Carter!" Natasha shouted as the watch flashed zero. Carter looked up as the doors slammed shut, Natasha and Steve on the other side.

"Carter!" Steve yelled, hammering on the door with one fist. Natasha quickly attempted to hack the console again, but it was refusing to budge.

"Carter," she then spoke into her comm. "Carter, can you hear me?" Silence. "Dammit, we've lost connection."

"What's going on?" Came Clint's voice, the sound of heavy foot falls echoing as he ran.

"Carter's locked in," Natasha relayed shortly, watching as Steve lowered Sitwell to the floor. "Don't worry, we'll get her out." Steve began to throw all his weight at the door, trying in vain to make it budge.

"Don't worry?" Clint yelled. "Don't tell me not to worry! What happened?"

"I think," Natasha began, watching as Steve continued to pound away at the door. "I think it was a trap. Sitwell was bait…and Carter was the target."


	24. Chapter Twenty Three Attacked

**I wrote most of this chapter in my head at 7am this morning, before I fell back asleep. My first thought when my alarm went off later was 'The chair!'. You'll see why, haha.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Three - Attacked

"Steve! Natasha!" Carter yelled, fist hammering on the locked doors separating them. "Clint! Can anyone hear me?" She knew they wouldn't leave her, they wouldn't abandon her, but the panic was starting to set in. What if she never got out? "Clint, please! Answer me!" Her comm. device stayed silent, unable to connect to the others. "God dammit!"

Kicking the door, she turned back to the empty room, eyes frantically searching for another way out. Since she was on the sub-terrain levels, a window was out of the picture, but surely there was something that could help her. The large room held nothing but the metallic chair Sitwell had been tied to, no windows, doors, tables or anything.

Pacing anxiously, Carter's thoughts raced, her mind desperately attempting to conceive some sort of escape plan.

A deafening crash startled her, head snapping up to the gaping hole suddenly in the ceiling. Her heart leapt, thinking it was the others, but soon fell as the dust and debris cleared, revealing a stranger.

"Who are you?" Carter demanded, immediately coiling into a defensive position, daggers in hand.

"Carter Thomas," came a dead voice, void of all emotion.

"No, I'm Carter Thomas," she corrected him, taking in his appearance as he stepped forward.

He was massive. Taller and bulkier than Steve, synthetic muscles bulging from his flesh. His face was distorted, squashed and dull, as if no thoughts passed through his eyes. His staring blue eyes were as dead as his voice, dark hair sheared short. He looked like a thug, stood like a thug, with fat fists clenched at his sides. Carter stepped back cautiously.

"You are Carter Thomas," the flat voice agreed.

"Who are **you**?" Carter tried again, raising her voice in hopes of getting through to him.

"You are Carter Thomas," he repeated.

"Yes, we've established that," Carter snapped. "Who. Are. You?"

"You are Carter Thomas."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Carter cursed, face palming.

"You are Carter Thomas."

"Yes!" Carter nearly screamed, her temper getting the best of her. "I'm Carter Thomas!"

That seemed to be what he was waiting for. He drew a large sub-machine gun, and without warning, fired away.

* * *

Clint was panting when he arrived beside Natasha and Steve, who were still hacking and hammering away respectively.

"What happened!" He shouted, grabbing Natasha by the shoulders. "How did you let this happen?" Natasha pushed him away, her face furious.

"You think this is my fault?" She challenged him. "I'm suddenly her babysitter? She fell behind, it just happened!"

"Why? What stopped her?"

"A watch, I think," Steve replied, never ceasing in his attempts to pry the doors open. "It was beeping, caught her attention. By the time Natasha realised it was a trap, it was too late. There was nothing we could do."

"We have to get her out!" Clint insisted, his eyes scanned the door for a sign of structural weakness. "Can she hear us in there?"

"It seems soundproof," Natasha muttered. "We can't hear anything from the other side, and she's made no signs of being able to hear us."

"Carter?" Clint then said into his comm. "Carter, can you hear me?"

"We've been cut off," Steve sighed. "We can't reach her."

"What the hell do we do then?"

"Steve," Natasha said, thinking quickly. "Take Jasper to the quinjet. There's a box under a panel in the floor, it's full of explosives like the ones you and Carter used to get in here. We'll have to try blasting our way in. If we can't get through these doors, we'll make a new one."

* * *

Carter dove out of the way just in time, the bullets embedding into the wall behind her. The gun followed her, chasing her around the room. Her eyes searched for cover, but the room was huge and empty; no where to hide. She'd have to attack.

Waiting for a break in fire, Carter then charged, throwing herself at the thug. She had intended to knock him to the ground, but he was too heavy, and she crashed to his feet instead. Rolling away, she tried a sweeping kick, but that too proved ineffective.

"Shit!" She swore as more bullets began to burst through the air. She dodged them, staying ahead of the cloud behind her, waiting for another lull. As she ran, she charged her daggers, gripping the handles tightly.

The gun fell silent again, overheating, and Carter rushed at her attacker determinedly, leaping and plunging the blades deep into his shoulders. She released them, landing neatly and tearing the gun from his hands while he was dazed. She aimed it at him, stepping back slowly.

He had definitely noticed the daggers sticking of his flesh, his blank stare turning to them, but he didn't seem to register the pain, simply plucking them out with ease. His gaze returned to Carter, and he tossed the daggers into the air, through the hole in the ceiling and away from her grasp.

"Oh, fuck me," she cursed. Still, at least she had the gun. She raised it higher, taking aim at the man's head, finger clenching down on the trigger. A few bullets flew forward, but then the hammer clicked sadly. "Are you kidding me?" Throwing the gun to the side, Carter looked around helplessly.

_Lasers!_ She suddenly remembered, concentrating her energy into them. She fired away, striking him square between the eyes, but nothing. Then he charged.

_You'd think someone as big as that would move a little slower,_ Carter thought to herself as she recovered, turning onto her back. A foot came slamming down, Carter only narrowly avoiding it as she rolled quickly to the side. The second time she wasn't so lucky, her ankle crushed beneath the heavy boot. Her scream pierced the air as the bones crumbled under the pressure.

Scrambling away, breathing heavy, Carter's eyes darted around once more. Maybe she could escape through the ceiling, but she didn't really see how. Slumped against the wall, her will began to ebb away, the menacing thug storming towards her again. She couldn't even try to get away, a fist clenching around her neck, hurling across the room. She collided with the chair as she landed, crying out in pain.

"Stupid chair," she whined hopelessly, trying to disentangle herself from the metal legs. "Wait…" _Metal legs? Metal conducts electricity!_ But would it be enough? Her electrified daggers didn't do much, what good would a chair be? _Unless…_ She cast her gaze up again. _Yes!_

Emergency sprinkler systems. That'd do it.

Raising an arm, she fired her lasers at the sprinklers, the water pouring out, soaking them both. The thug stopped for a moment, his eyes still glazed over as he tried to understand where the water was coming from. He looked back to Carter, her arm still in the air, and was able to put two and two together. Letting out an angry yell, he ran at her.

Carter waited until he was a foot from her before she grabbed the chair, channelling as much energy as she could into the metal, and swung it into his face. There was a mighty crash, followed by a zapping, sizzling sound Carter would never forget as the electricity tore through his entire body, the water multiplying the effects, frying his nerves and burning his brain.

With a strangled cry, he fell, his corpse splashing in the water beginning to pool around them. Carter sighed in relief, dropping the chair with a crash, and keeling over. That last burst of energy had been all she could muster, and now she was completely drained. Her eyes slid closed, and she slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

By the time Steve returned with the explosives, Clint's temper had nearly reached boiling point.

"What took you?" He yelled, Steve placing the box on the floor. Natasha kneeled down to tap in the combination to open it, simply ignoring Clint and his frustrations.

"She'll be fine," Steve tried to assure him. "It's not like there was anyone else in there with her, it was just an empty room." Natasha moved between the two of them, slapping the explosives down the middle of the doors.

"Get back," she instructed them, setting off the timers. The three rushed a few yards down the corridor, the blast throwing the doors open, debris scattering through the air.

"Carter!" Clint yelled, blindly running through the smoke billowing from the blast. "Carter, where are you?" The water splashed around his feet as he made it into the room, his eyes stinging from the smoke. "Carter!"

He saw her as the mist cleared, collapsed on the far end of the room, blood mingling in the water from a wound on her arm. Her left ankle lay sprawled at a strange angle, her face bruised and slack. Clint stomped through the water, ignoring the dead man face down, only thinking of Carter.

Natasha knelt down at her side, somehow overtaking him during his moment of blindness, two slim fingers pressed against her neck.

"She's alive," she confirmed, pulling away as Clint scooped her up into his arms, holding her tight.

"He's not," Steve spoke up, one foot nudging the corpse of Carter's attacker. "Do we just leave him here?"

"I don't give a damn if you want to plait his hair," Clint snapped. "Let's just get Carter outta here." Natasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Steve.

"Leave him," she said. "He's no use to us dead."

Clint carrying Carter, the three made their way back to the quinjet, Natasha piloting as Clint watched over Carter. He was furious at her for letting herself get trapped like that, furious at Steve and Natasha too. But really, he was angry at himself. If Carter had died…she would've died mad at him, she would've died thinking he didn't have faith in her.

_She would've died…not knowing I love her._

* * *

"_How did she do?"_

"_Better than expected. Agent 19 is deceased."_

"_Did we get the data we needed?"_

"_Yes, sir. Seems Stark has built her a suit, enhancing her capabilities."_

"_Can we synthesise something similar?"_

"_Perhaps, I'll need more time to analyse the data."_

"_Phase One complete. Move on to Phase Two."_

"_Yes, sir."_


	25. Chapter Twenty Four Comatose

**Sorry for the delay, been babysitting my 8 month old niece all week and haven't had a chance to write anything. Also, my depression has been getting pretty heavy handed, so motivation is a little sparse, but here we are; chapter twenty four. Enjoy!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Four - Comatose

"Bruce kick you out of the med-bay?" Honestly, Natasha wasn't surprised, even as she asked. In her one and only visit to the still unconscious Carter, Clint had never ceased pacing back and forth, watching Natasha closely when she leaned into examine Carter. It had pissed her off, and she only had to endure it once, she could only imagine how many times Bruce had had to put up with it.

"Pfft, he said I'm distracting him," Clint replied sourly, resting against the doorframe as Natasha continued to type away on her laptop. "I wasn't even doing anything," he muttered, arms folded over his chest.

"Were you pacing?"

"…maybe…" Clint sighed heavily.

When they had finally arrived back at S.H.I.E.L.D. Central, Carter had been rushed to the medical bay, numerous doctors examining her while Clint could only watch. Machine after machine had been hooked up to her, but nothing could be done. Carter was in a coma. Bruce assured them all that she would wake up, but there was no way to determine when, so Clint had decided to stay with her at all times. A tight crick in his neck had developed from crashing on the couch next to her bed for two weeks, and his eyes were constantly bloodshot from rubbing them as he watched as Carter remained unmoving.

_How can stillness be so terrifying?_ Clint asked himself, time and time again. _No blood, no bruises, no bandages, just closed eyes and slow breathing. _The bullet wound had been cleaned, her ankle had been repaired and set, and both injuries had completely healed already. Bruce had been pretty excited about that. Her body's capability to recover was one of the few things he had been unable to assess beforehand. _Glad somebody's seeing a bright side._

Now all Clint could do was wander the facility, trying to keep himself occupied until Bruce relented and let him back in to the med bay.

"What're you doing anyway?" Clint asked, bringing his attention back to Natasha.

"Working."

"On what?"

"Work. Go away."

"Come on, tell me," Clint persisted, abandoning his stance in the doorway to approach her desk, determined to see what she was doing. Natasha growled at him, slamming the laptop closed.

"I'm serious, Clint," she warned him, turning on him angrily.

"Right, right," he yielded, stepping back as Natasha's temper began to rise. "Whatever."

"Why don't you go annoy someone else?" Natasha suggested dryly, opening her laptop back up. "Clint!" She then yelled, Clint snatching the laptop from her. He sidestepped her easily when she lunged at him, chuckling.

"I'm only looking," he whined, eyes quickly scanning the information on the screen. Natasha chewed her lip, knowing it was too late now, Clint's expression turning to a frown as he took the information in. _Melody Thomas._

"Clint?"

"You've been…" Clint sat down on the edge of Natasha's bed, fingers clenching around the edges of the laptop. "…researching Carter's mom?"

"Clint-"

"Why?"

"You…" Natasha rubbed her forehead tiredly, thinking over her words. "You were really worried about keeping it from her, and I just…Fury said we couldn't tell her unless we were sure; I wanted to be sure."

"Does he know you're doing this?" Clint asked, handing the laptop back to her. She accepted it, closing it over again before placing it back on her desk.

"I haven't said anything," she admitted. "But…I'm pretty sure he figured it out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't wanna get your hopes up," Natasha shrugged. "If Melody Thomas is dead, fair enough, but if she's alive…where is she? What has she been doing? Does she even know if Carter is all right? There's too many questions, and I…I didn't want you worrying about them if she isn't even alive."

"This is for **my** benefit?" Clint exclaimed. "What about Carter?"

"I'm doing it for both of you," Natasha replied, trying to keep her tone casual as she refused to meet Clint's eyes. "Carter deserves the truth. I know what it's like…being forced to be something you don't want to…and if there's a way I can help…I don't know, I guess I just want to do what I can."

"Tash…"

* * *

A monotonous beep ran through Carter's head, foggy memories swimming to the surface. She slowly peeled her eyes open, head pounding, the hazy outline of Doctor Banner standing over her.

"Hey, sleeping beauty wakes up at last," he quipped, a small smile on his face. He leaned in close, shining a bright torch into her eyes, Carter squinting at the light. "How're you feeling?"

"Uh…fuzzy," she croaked out, spluttering on the words. A heavy cough racked her chest as she tried to sit up. "W-where am I?"

"The med bay at .S.H.I.E.L.D. Central," Bruce replied, helping her into a sitting position, hitting the remote next to the bed, raising the back for her. "Trust you to wake up the second I finally tell Clint to screw off." Carter forced a dry chuckle, shaking her head slightly. "Here," Bruce then said, holding out a glass of water. Carter accepted it gratefully, chugging the liquid down in one go. "And now this one." Another glass, a more cloudy substance filling it. Carter looked at it questioningly. "Yeah, I added a little something. It'll get you back on your feet that bit faster."

"How does it taste?" Carter asked, taking the glass from him.

"You tell me," Bruce answered with a shrug. Carter sighed, reluctantly drinking it down. It didn't taste too bad, just a little bitter. "Now, get a few breaths in while you can, Fury's on his way down."

"Do me favour, Bruce," Carter groaned, flopping back against the raised headboard of the bed. "Unplug this crap from me."

Hooked up to all sorts of machines and monitors wasn't the best way to wake up, and the steady beep of her heart rate was giving Carter a headache already. Not to mention there was a drip connected to the back of her hand, her stomach turning at the thought of the needle that put it there. If she wasn't so exhausted and dazed, Carter probably would have torn it from her hand herself, ripping all the other plugs and clips and cuffs in the process. Bruce simply smiled, and did as she asked.

"Why did you tell Clint to 'screw off'?" She then asked, stretching her arms out gratefully, now that she was released from the machinery.

"He's been driving me nuts," Bruce replied, tossing the wires and plugs carelessly onto a worktop. "Pacing, mumbling, glaring at me whenever I examine you. Just being an ass, really." Carter sighed, feeling her heart kick sadly. "You still mad at him?" Bruce asked, noticing her forlorn expression. "Steve told me," he explained, Carter frowning at him questionably.

"Not really, I guess," she mused, honestly a little unsure. "I mean, sure, he shouldn't have doubted me, but…it's hard to stay angry at him when he cares so much. And besides," she sighed, wiggling her ankle, hardly surprised at it's recovery. "He was kinda right…I messed up a couple of times, and maybe if I had more experience I wouldn't have…gotten my assed kicked."

"Well," Bruce pointed out gently, placing a hand on her ankle to still her movement. "Now you have some experience." Carter nodded, letting a small smile creep across her face. "Steve said you did pretty good anyway."

"Only after he told me to stop thinking so much," Carter added bitterly. "That first fight…I was awful…I got shot."

"Which has healed nicely," Bruce commented, his thumb tracing the slight scar that was fading quickly. "Your ankle too. In fact, it was because of how quickly you recovered we were so worried."

"Worried?" Carter asked, frowning.

"You've been out cold for just under two weeks, Carter," Bruce explained, chuckling lightly at her surprised expression. "Your blood was completely drained of the static electricity, and it seems your brain needs it to function. Without it; total system shutdown. You've been completely unresponsive."

"Whoops," she muttered, biting her lower lip. "Uh…you might wanna tell Clint I'm awake then."

"You want to see him, huh?" Bruce smirked, walking over to his desk and tapping on the keyboard. A few seconds later, Clint's face appeared on the screen.

"Bruce? Is Carter all right? Has something happened?"

"She's awake, lover boy," Bruce replied with a grin. "She wants to see you."


	26. Chapter Twenty Five Codename

**Note to fellow writers - Don't write Clint stories while watching Mark Ruffalo films. It's very distracting.**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Five - Codename

Not for the first time, Carter found herself incredibly grateful for her advanced healing. Clint's hug was crushing, and if her arm hadn't recovered, she'd be in a fair amount of pain as Clint squeezed her tight.

"God, Clint," she spluttered, wrenching him away with a smile. "I've already been through the wars, I don't need half a dozen broken ribs."

"I was so worried about you," he mumbled into her hair, relaxing his hold, but never letting go. As he kissed her cheek repeatedly, Carter couldn't help giggling, his touches warming her heart. "And I'm sorry," he added, pushing her hair away from her face to cup her cheeks in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Carter."

"It's okay," she whispered in reply, her own hands covering his. "I forgive you, I already forgave you. I just…I was just being stubborn, I guess." She pressed an apologetic kiss to his lips, pulling away with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"What a pair we make, huh?" Clint joked, finally releasing her.

"Given our situation, I think we're doing pretty well," she replied with a shrug. "I mean, this whole thing was always gonna be fairly volatile."

"Yeah…"

"Look sharp, guys," Bruce suddenly interrupted them. "Here comes the boss."

Fury's expression was difficult to read as he strode into the med bay. Serious as always, but some sort of under lying relief, Carter couldn't tell if he was glad she was okay, or just glad he hadn't lost a powerful agent. Well, would-be agent.

"Miss Thomas," he greeted her, hands behind his back. "Good to see you awake."

"Thanks, boss," she said quietly, wondering if there was a thinly veiled dig in that sentence. "I'm feeling much better."

"And I see Agent Barton remains glued to your side," Fury stated, turning his eye on Clint, who only smirked.

"Of course," he said. "Although, thanks to Doctor Banner, I missed her waking up."

"I believe Doctor Banner was valid in expelling you from the med bay," Fury retorted with a similar smirk. "From what I heard, you were more of a hindrance than a help."

"I was worried."

"As were we all." Fury turned back to Carter, face serious once again. "You were the only one there, Miss Thomas; we still have no idea what actually happened to you."

"I was attacked."

"We surmised that much, Miss Thomas," Fury sighed. "I want the team in the briefing room at eighteen-hundred hours for a review of events, make sure you're ready."

"Yes, boss." Carter bit her lip as Fury nodded at the others and left, leather jacket swishing behind him. "Damn," she muttered once he was safely out of ear shot.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, frowning at her.

"I can barely remember what _did_ happen," she admitted, rubbing her forehead. "Now I need to make a bloody presentation?"

"It'll be fine," Clint chuckled, perching himself on the edge of her bed, one arm slung over her shoulders. "Fury's not asking for every little detail, just the bigger stuff."

"I guess," Carter sighed, leaning into him. She closed her eyes, only to snap them open seconds later when her stomach let out a roar. Clint and Bruce laughed as Carter's face flushed red in embarrassment. "Come on!" She groaned. "I haven't eaten in two weeks. Grow up!"

* * *

To Carter's relief, the briefing had been a lot easier than anticipated. When she slowed down, and told the story piece by piece it came back to her easily. Tony had shown up, eager to find out how her suit had held up, and was dismayed that she had lost her daggers. Luckily, Bruce pointed out that it meant he got to make her better ones, and that cheered the genius up straight away, pulling out his sidekick and tapping away, muttering to himself.

Fury had been more interested in the man who had attacked her, especially his limited vocabulary. It had been obvious at the time, but only now did Carter realise the implications; he had been sent for her, and her alone. Hearing it out loud, Clint had tensed, and her own stomach began to churn. Of course N-GES would always be after her, but she hadn't dreamed they were getting so close, or that they could simply want her dead. Steve and Bruce both attempted to comfort her, but it was Natasha that made the most sense.

"You beat them once, you'll do it again."

Carter nodded gratefully. She had been under the impression Natasha didn't like her. She had a deep history with Clint, and hadn't really spent any time with Carter unless she had to, but Carter still appreciated her words.

When the meeting was finally over, Fury stood over them, Coulson and Maria flanking him like always.

"Miss Thomas," he began, tone serious and professional. "As a trainee agent, you were put into a live action field mission, one beyond your experience and training, and you exceeded our expectations in carrying it out. In light of this achievement, it is my pleasure to bestow upon you the rank of field agent, and welcome you to S.H.I.E.L.D. as an official member of operations. Congratulations."

"What?" Carter gasped, eyes wide.

"Hey, hey!" Tony cheered, clapping her on the back. "Welcome to the team, Thomas!"

"Well done," Bruce grinned.

"I said you were ready," Steve reminded her, smiling wide. "Congrats, kid."

"You'll do great," Natasha added, her lips giving her the faintest of smiles.

"Wow," Carter chuckled, turning to Clint, who was still silent, jaw tight. "Clint?"

"I think you're ready," he admitted reluctantly. "Just don't you dare get hurt like that again."

"I won't," Carter promised, squeezing his hand. "Oh my god!" She squealed. "I'm an agent!"

"And agents get codenames," Tony then pointed out. "Come on, Fury, spill it!" Carter fell silent, looking back up at the boss expectantly.

"Carter Thomas," he said with a smile. "Codename; Sparkstrike."

* * *

"Got your new daggers, Sparky," Tony greeted Carter, interrupting her training session with Steve.

"Don't call me that," she told him, for what felt like the hundredth time, never ceasing in her pounding of the punch bag Steve was holding still for her.

"Suits you," Steve chuckled, earning himself a glare. "What? You are sparky."

"You're sparky," she muttered venomously, her punches coming harder and faster.

"Come on, Carter," Tony chided, hoisting a metal case onto a nearby table. "Stop being childish and check these out."

Carter sighed heavily, wiping some sweat from her forehead as she stopped battering the punch bag, giving Steve a rest. He followed her as she approached Tony, who was busy unfastening the clips holding the case closed.

"You're gonna love these," he was saying, flipping the lid open. "Just like the last ones, except more conductive, and a little flashier."

He could say that again. The daggers had the same black, curved handles, but the blades were a shimmering golden colour, almost yellow, contrasting the handles greatly. More intricate engravings decorated the length, and Carter scowled when she saw the name '**Sparkstrike' **imprinted on both.

"Hey," Steve laughed, noticing her glare. "It's better than 'The Hulk'."

"Yeah, yeah," Carter muttered, picking the daggers up and twirling them in her hands. They felt lighter than before, and fit the curve of her palm better. She liked them. "Not bad," she admitted to Tony, placing them back in the box.

"And I had your uniform repaired," he replied, closing the case back over. "You'd never know there was a bullet hole at all."

"Awesome," Carter thanked him, smiling. "Let's hope there's never another one. Getting shot; not fun."

"Pulling bullets out of open wounds," Steve added. "Not fun."

"Not even getting to go on the mission," Tony pointed out. "Even less fun."

"You'd rather get shot than stay at home?" Carter asked, chuckling.

"No bullet can penetrate my armour," Tony bragged, smirking.

"No bullet can penetrate your ego," Steve said, only half joking.

"You wanna go, old man?"

"Oh, stop it," Carter bit out, before Steve had a chance to reply. "You two are worse than children."

"They _are _children," came a voice from the doorway, all three of them turning to face Natasha.

"If it isn't my favourite kind of spider coming to play," Tony drawled as Natasha walked over to them, high heels clicking with every step.

"If it isn't my favourite kind of genius; about to leave," Natasha replied, waving him off as he growled playfully at her. "Carter," she then said, softening her tone. "Can we talk?"

"Y-yeah," Carter stuttered, taken back. "Of course. Just let me…clean up a bit." Natasha nodded with a smile, Carter running her hands through her hair, wincing at the sweatiness of it. She pat her face down with a towel, unwound her bandages and chugged down a bottle of water, before packing up her gym bag and following Natasha out of the gym. As she went, Steve gave her an encouraging smile, whereas Tony drew a finger across his neck, grimacing. Carter held up her middle finger at him, scowling, her heart already fluttering nervously.

"I know this seems sudden," Natasha spoke up as they walked down the corridor together. "But I've been wanting to talk with you for a while now."

"Is it…about Clint?" Carter asked hesitantly.

"No," Natasha replied, shaking her head. "Though I'm a little surprised he told you about us."

"I had sort of…suspected," Carter admitted. "He didn't really say much when I asked him, just that it was when you first met, and it was a long time ago."

"Did he tell you I was a bad guy?"

"Yeah," Carter replied. "He said you…uh, seduced him."

"I'm not proud of it," Natasha said quietly. "My job at the time…who I was at the time…but things change. I've changed." They reached a door, Natasha holding it open for Carter to slip inside. It was Natasha's bedroom, or Carter assumed so at least. She sat down on the couch, watching as Natasha leaned against the nearby desk, clearly thinking.

"So…" Carter eventually spoke up. "What is you want to talk about?"


	27. Chapter Twenty Six Before The Storm

**Another delay, another apology. Can I blame my niece again? Amongst other things, of course. Life is life, and sometimes it just drags you away with it.**

**I wouldn't say the story is near the end, but, as the chapter title suggests, shit's about to hit the fan. I'm one of those writers than tends to start at the end of a story when planning the plot, so I'm excited to be getting to this part of Carter's adventure.**

**As always, I love your reviews more than I have any right to, and eternal thanks to those of you who leave them. And even the readers that don't, I'm just glad you read this story, and I pray you all enjoy it, so here's the latest.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Six - Before The Storm

Carter watched the steady rise and fall of Clint's chest, her eyes cutting through the dark room easily as her lover slept. He didn't snore, but his breathing was louder than normal, Carter absent-mindedly counting the beat between each exhale as she cast her mind back to the day.

She hadn't told Clint about her conversation with Natasha. She didn't see the point. He would just worry, and she had already put him through enough recently. As laidback as he usually was, Carter knew he was always thinking about her, anxious for her future, her safety. The last thing he needed was another reason to fret, not now that things were calming down.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a mole. Someone had infiltrated the organization, reporting back to N-GES regularly, keeping them informed of all of Carter's training, abilities and even her relationship with Clint. Natasha didn't know who to trust with her discovery; she had even debated whether or not to tell Carter, but in the end knew she had to. Sitting in a stunned silence, Carter took in every word, barely breathing. She had felt so safe with S.H.I.E.L.D., especially since she had been promoted to field agent, but now…

Watching Clint sleep, Carter thought back to her arrival at the compound; Clint had been convinced she would be safer here, Carter less so, but only now did she truly feel in danger. Despite Fury's protection, the agents he trained and trusted, the maze of a compound above and below and between them all, Carter was in danger, at risk, of an enemy that had slipped through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intricate net. And she didn't know who she could tell. Natasha had been pretty clear about that. All these people working for her, beside her, for years, and Natasha didn't trust any of them. Even Clint.

His eyes flickered slightly when Carter sighed, stirring in his sleep. His breathing shifted, eyes opening for a second, face frowning.

"Carter?" His tired voice spoke, hands reaching up to rub his eyes.

"Shh," she whispered, pulling his hands away, holding them in her own. "It's okay, go back to sleep."

"Hmm?" He was still half-asleep. Carter released his hands, letting him turn over and snuggle into his pillow. She couldn't help but smile. A few seconds later his breathing evened out again, letting Carter know he had fallen back into slumber.

She rolled onto her side, resting her forehead against the warmth of his bare back, inhaling his scent. What if it was Clint? What if he was the spy, the mole? Could it even be possible? Could he have been deceiving her this whole time?

"No," she mumbled, voice croaky, breaking. "No, never, ever, ever."

"Will you just tell me what's wrong?" Carter jerked back, startled at Clint's sudden voice.

"Bad dream," she said quickly, Clint turning to face her, eyes tired but focused. Even in the dark, she could see him rolling his eyes.

"Did you really think I'd believe that?" He asked, voice low as he slid closer to her, arms enveloping her. Carter said nothing, letting herself relax in his embrace. "Come on, Carter, you can tell me anything."

"Shh," she replied, closing her eyes, pressing her body closer to Clint's. Brushing her hand against his cheek, she leaned in to kiss him, wanting to forget the conflict raging inside her.

And for the rest of the night, she did.

* * *

As hard as Carter tried, there was no denying she was distracted. Clint had noticed, Steve had noticed, Tony had noticed, Bruce had noticed. Even Coulson had noticed. But Carter was true to her word; she had promised Natasha she would keep the news to herself, and so all questions were answered with an easy lie.

"_I'm just tired."_

"_I've got a lot on my mind."_

"_Nothing's wrong, just thinking about stuff."_

"_I've not been sleeping."_

"_I'm just a little under the weather."_

"_Been having bad dreams."_

"_Training's been stressful."_

"_Nothing's wrong."_

"_I'm fine."_

"_I promise."_

Coulson and Bruce accepted the lies, neither pressing any further. Tony, being his usual curious self, persisted, annoyed to be kept out of a secret. Steve worried, but let her be, focusing on training and nothing more. Clint, however…

_Oh, Clint,_ Carter thought to herself, eyes unable to focus on the file in her hands. _Please, stop asking. I can't tell you._ Fury had given her a new mission, teaming her up with Clint and Natasha. They left in the morning, but were expected to read up on the parameters before then. Carter had left it to the last minute, finding other ways to prepare herself, but now…she had to buckle down and do the homework.

Easier said than done, to be honest, especially with Clint sprawled out on her bed, sighing heavily in an attempt to catch her attention.

"Stop it," she muttered, desperately trying to absorb at least **some** of the information in front of her.

"Stop what?" He asked innocently, his own file discarded to one side.

"Stop…_sighing,_" she slowly replied, rereading the same sentence over and over. "It's distracting."

"You know what else is distracting? You." Carter rolled her eyes as Clint's lazy effort to flirt with her.

"Then leave." She couldn't help being short with him; she really needed to study their mission.

"Where would I go?" Clint asked, hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Hawaii?" Carter suggested, naming the first place that came to mind.

"You in a bikini? Nice. Yeah, let's go there."

"Clint."

"Carter."

"Would you just-"

"Why won't you talk to me?" Clint interrupted her, suddenly angrily. Carter frowned at him as he rose from the bed. "Something is bothering you, something big, and you won't tell me. We're in a relationship, Carter! You're supposed to tell me this stuff!"

"I…I can't," was all the reply she could muster. "I'm sorry, Clint, but I can't tell you, and I can't tell you why either. Just…trust me, please?" Clint sighed, kneeling in front of her, taking the file from her, placing it aside to grasp hold of her hands.

"How can I let you carry the weight of such a heavy burden alone?" He whispered, his eyes begging her for an answer. "You are so far away from me right now, and I can't stand it." He lifted her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against them. "You're troubled, everyone can see it, but I'm the only one that _feels_ it. I can feel you pulling away from me."

Could he? Could Carter's fear, fear that Clint could possibly be a spy, have manifested in her behaviour? Was her hesitance to trust him becoming apparent? Did he suspect why? If he did, did that mean he _was_ the mole?

No. Carter had decided it wasn't him. It couldn't possibly be him. She trusted him with her life, and loved him with all her heart.

_Oh…that's new._

"I love you," she said, surprising herself with how easily the words came out. Clint jerked away, as if stung.

"W-what?" He stammered, rising to his feet, eyes wide, almost panicked.

"I love you," she repeated, stomach twisting at his sudden rejection of her.

"Well…you've not been acting like it," he accused her, palms beginning to sweat. He clenched his fists, trying to hide his discomfort. _What's wrong with me?_ He asked himself.

"I only just realised it," she answered, eyes tearing. "Is the idea really so repulsive to you?"

"N-no, but I…" _I, what? Come on, Clint, get it together. _"I…I wanted to say it first," he eventually choked out. Carter felt her body relax slightly.

"You love me?" She asked, smiling, holding down a shriek of delight. Clint bit down on his lower lip, the words he had been holding back for weeks finally ready to spill out.

"Yes," he said, refusing to meet her gaze. "I love you."

"Look at me, then say it," Carter demanded, standing to turn him to her, smirking as his face began to flush.

"I love you," he tried again, his eyes boring into hers. "Is that better?"

"A little creepy," she laughed, holding his face in her hands. "Can you look at me without looking like some pervert?"

"Nope." Clint was smiling now too, a great weight lifted from his shoulders and his heart. "I am a pervert." They laughed together, Carter lightly thumping him on the chest.

"I don't want to love a pervert," she said, her arms slithering around his neck, his hands pulling on her waist.

"Too late," he stated, leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss evolved into more, and it wasn't long before they were between the sheets, wrapped in each other, giggling and gasping, foreheads pressed together as they made love. Carter's hands ran through Clint's hair, his grip on her waist never faltering, lazy kisses passing between them, keeping their bodies locked together as the passion continued. Even afterwards, both out of breath and covered in sweat, their lips remained pressed against each other, his on her temple, while she kissed underneath his chin.

Hands clasped together, legs intertwined and completely exhausted, Clint and Carter fell into a deep sleep, the last words spoken between them still lingering in the air.

"_I love you."_


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven Infiltration

**I just wanted to let you know, I've posted some new story summaries on my profile page. I've got plenty of ideas, but I only want to concentrate on one story at a time, so here's what I propose. Go to my profile, read the potential stories and pairings, then vote in the poll for the one you'd like to read most. The poll will stay open until this story is finished, so you've got time to ponder if you need to, but I really hope you all vote. As much as you all love Clint, I'm sure there's at least one more character you'd love you lock in your bedroom for a night, haha.**

**So please, take some time to have a look and vote for your favourite. The Loki story I mentioned a while back is there too, just in case you were wondering.**

**Also, the longer I look at the word **Infiltration**, the less like a real word it seems. Does that make sense?**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Seven - Infiltration

Carter's first mission as a full agent was no simple matter. Saying she was nervous was an understatement, to say the least. Sitting in the back of the quinjet, Natasha and Clint piloting, Carter was fidgeting with her gauntlets, thoughts racing forward and back. Thanks to their proclamation of love the previous night, Carter never did get through the file Fury had given her. _Better late than never_, she thought, picking up the copy she had brought on board.

Eyes taking in as much information as they could, as quickly as they could, Carter discovered they were being sent on a triple assassination. Three targets, three agents. Her mark was a man known as The Supplier in a new terrorist ring that was quickly garnering supporters. Clint's was a bomb specialist, and Natasha's the ring leader himself. The three were meeting in an abandoned apartment complex in Moscow, fifteen stories up. The file described a 'Divide and Conquer' strategy. Natasha would breach security, causing the meeting to be abandoned and the trio to split up, then Clint would take out the bomber from an adjacent building, leaving Carter to root out her target while Natasha got the leader.

_Seems easy enough_, Carter thought to herself sarcastically, shoulders slumping.

"You okay back there, gorgeous?" Clint called over his shoulder, Natasha rolling her eyes.

"Yeah," Carter replied, placing the file back beside her, climbing to her feet and leaning over Clint's shoulder to admire the view. "Clouds are boring," she decided, seeing nothing of note.

"Better than being spotted," Natasha pointed out. "And remember; you two promised no couple-y-ness."

"We remember," Carter and Clint droned together, earning themselves and snort of derision.

"That was coupley. Prepare to land; Carter, strap yourself in. Clint's not as good as a pilot as he likes to think."

"I'm an awesome pilot."

"I'm better." This time it was Carter who rolled her eyes, buckling herself into her seat.

The landing seemed smooth enough to Carter, though Natasha maintained that she could have done it better. The three disembarked quickly and quickly, Clint heading over to the corner of the rooftop they had landed on, his superior vision seeing further than the other two could. He silently picked out his sniper spot as Natasha and Carter double checked their equipment.

"I'm heading six floors down," he informed the two of them, pulling his bow and quiver onto his back. He gave Carter a look, jaw tense, knowing that, of the two of them, she'd be in more danger. "Don't get attacked again," he instructed her, trying and failing to keep his voice light.

"Got it," Carter nodded, forcing a smile. All three of them had a feeling of unease, wanting this mission to be over with. The cold winds of Natasha's homeland cut through them, despite their protective clothing, and the two female agents headed into the building, descending the rooftop access stairs silently.

* * *

Steve was in the gym when it happened. He paused, mid punch, a split second before the alarms sounded, siren's blaring and lights flashing. Steve had never even noticed the red bulbs fastened to the walls before now, but there they were, screaming a warning to every one in ear shot.

_What's happening now?_ Steve wondered, not feeling terribly panicked. He had, after all, been through a lot worse. Crossing the room quickly, he pulled his cell phone from his gym bag, checking the screen to see if anyone had tried to contact him. _Can't be that bad,_ he decided. _Surely if there was some sort of threat they'd call me._ With an easy shrug, he placed the phone back down, deciding he may as well check out what was going on. He had just pulled the door of the gym open when another thought hit him.

_Carter's mission!_

* * *

"Natasha? Clint? Can anyone hear me?" She called, flinching back as another round of bullets tore past her hiding spot. Guards had poured out of every door, trapping her in the corridor. She knew sooner or later she'd have to fight her way through them, but best to figure out which way to go first. "Clint? Come on, Clint! Are you there?" Only static silence sounded in her ear, causing her to cry out in frustration.

Razor sharp senses kicked in, and her dagger was deep in the guard's chest before she had even realised he had approached her. He fell to the ground with a guttural moan, blood spilling from his mouth, and Carter snatched up his assault rifle, firing through the smog at the other men heading for her. A few went down, and Carter dispatched the remaining few easily, her daggers slicing through the air and plunging into flesh and veins.

With the lull in attack, Carter sprinted back down the corridor, listening carefully for any signs of Natasha or Clint, either in her ear or in the floors above and below her. She made it to the elevator shaft, her advanced strength enabling her to wrench the doors open effortlessly, peering inside. It was too dark to make much out, and certainly too dark to pinpoint the carriage's whereabouts. Carter didn't know if it was worth the risk. _Not yet_, she decided, turning back, allowing the doors to slide shut. The stairwell wasn't far from where she was, and it was worth checking out. Perhaps the flames had died down, though judging from the density of the smoke, it didn't seem likely.

Sure enough, the smoke still billowed from the double doors leading to the stairs, stinging Carter's eyes and choking her lungs. Even if she could just make it down one floor, that'd be progress, but it was another dangerous risk. The stairs could collapse at any minute, and the brightness of the flames, coupled with the darkness of the smoke would leave her blinded as she tried to manoeuvre her way through them.

_Either way, I think I'm screwed._ There had to be a third option, something she hadn't thought of yet.

* * *

There was chaos throughout S.H.I.E.L.D. Central. Someone had overridden all security systems, causing the A.I. to turn on the staff. Steve passed more bodies than he could stomach, making his way to Fury. Automatic defence turrets had been activated, and were unable to distinguish friend from foe, gunning down all that dare pass within range. Steve tore down what few he could, wrenching the machinery from the walls, but most were out of his reach. Doors would refuse to open one minute, then refuse to close the next, trapping S.H.I.E.L.D. staff everywhere. Communications were down, and all entrances and exits were on lockdown.

So yeah; chaos.

Luckily, Steve had fought in a war, sharing a like mindedness with Fury. The captain knew the director would have some sort of safe room, free from the hacked technology and aggressive machinery, and he also had a good idea where it would be.

Maria Hill and Phil Coulson had beaten him there, the two senior agents listening intently as Fury barked orders at them.

"Rogers." Fury noted the Captain's presence with a grim expression.

"What's happened?" Steve questioned shortly. "Has Carter reported back?"

"No, but she wouldn't be able to get through anyway," Maria replied. "All communications are down."

"We're under attack, Captain," Fury stated. "Agent Thomas can take care of herself. Meanwhile, I have staff dead, staff dying and rogue Artificial Intelligence to deal with."

"Do we know who's attacking us?" Coulson asked, looking between Fury and Steve.

"I have a report from Agent Romanoff," Fury nodded. "She believes someone from N-GES has infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., most likely the one orchestrating this."

"What could they hope to accomplish with this?" Maria spoke up, shaking her head. "It doesn't make sense; they could only be after Agent Thomas, but she isn't even here. If this spy is any good, he'd know that."

"I'm sure he does, ma'am," Steve replied as politely as he could. "In fact, that's probably why he chose now to attack."

"Why doesn't concern me," Fury said, voice rising. "What I want to know is how. **How** did they penetrate our defences, **how** did they hack our systems, and **how** did they do it without us knowing!"

"Natasha knew," Coulson pointed out.

* * *

"Clint? Clint!" Natasha yelled down her earpiece, ducking behind a table as the next storm of bullets rang out.

"Tash?" His voice finally came through, static breaking the word into extra syllables. "T-ash, what-sss ha-ppen-ing?"

"We were ambushed," Natasha replied, her pistols firing repeatedly, taking down enemies left right and centre. "We got separated. Have you heard from her?"

"Ta-sh, I -nt' hear -. -s Car-ter wi- you?"

"Clint!" Natasha shouted again, the static taking over his voice, reducing the words to nonsense. "Dammit!"

The two women had been twelve floors up when the attack started, driving them apart. Natasha had been able to descend a few floors before the stairwell was set ablaze, but she had no idea if Carter had been able to follow her. With the communications shut off they were sitting ducks waiting for each other, so Natasha had continued to head down when she could, praying Carter would have the sense to try and get out of the building herself. Now on the ground floor, Natasha was dealing with the last of the guards blocking her exit.

There was a sudden deafening crash, causing the entire building to shake, dust and ash rushing into the air from impact. Natasha used the distraction to rush forward, attacking what was left of the fleet of guards attempting to kill her. One she took out with her Widow's Bite, electricity surging into his body, killing him outright. Another tried to grab her, but she neatly swung out of his way, her legs flying up to wrap themselves around his neck, using the momentum to burl round and throw him down, the collision with the floor knocking him out cold. The last two felt bullets ripping through their skulls, and dropped down, dead.

Brushing herself down, Natasha turned her attention to what had triggered the crash. Someone had cut the wire holding the elevator carriage, causing it to plummet to the earth. Natasha approached the elevator shaft slowly, guns held in front of her, ready to fire. No one could have survived that, but Natasha wasn't the type to take chances.

A spluttering cough echoed through the ash still lingering in the air, and Natasha couldn't hide a smile when Carter emerged, banged up, but alive.

"Are you insane?" She said to her fellow agent, lowering her guns. "Did you do that?"

"I needed a ride," Carter joked, still choking on the smoke from the higher floors. "Climbed on top and cut the wire myself. Great way to travel." Natasha could only shake her head in disbelief. "Have you heard from Clint?" Carter then asked, her voice shaking slightly. Natasha nodded.

"Briefly," she said. "But there was a lot of static, we didn't get a chance to say much. He's alive at least."

"He better be," Carter sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Are there anymore guards?" She nudged one of Natasha's corpses with her foot in disdain.

"Not inside," Natasha replied. "God knows what's waiting for us out there."

"If Clint's still kickin' there won't be much," Carter forced herself to chuckle, unable to admit there was a chance he could be hurt. "He'll have cleaned them out for us."

"Well, we won't find out staying here."

The daylight seemed out of place with everything going on, but at least it meant they could easily make out the dozen of dead guards littered across the concrete. Carter breathed a sigh of relief, knowing it meant Clint was still all right. Holding a hand to shield her eyes, she looked up to the sky, wishing she had Clint's vision and was able to make out his silhouette, but still smiled, knowing he could see her. She waved her hand, before following Natasha into the adjoining building.

In no time at all they had ascended the stairs, arriving out on the rooftop under the glaring sun.

"Clint!" Carter exclaimed, propelling herself into his arms, forgetting her earlier promises of 'no couple-y-ness'.

"Thank God, you're okay," Clint breathed, holding her tightly to him.

"Oh, come on," Natasha groaned as the two swayed on the spot together. "I've killed half a hundred men today, but _this _is what'll make me throw up." Clint and Carter separated, mumbling half-hearted apologies.

"Well, _**I**_ thought it was rather cute."

The three agents whipped around, the strange female voice startling them. Before them, stepping out of the shadows, stood a hostile looking woman, long copper hair flowing in the breeze, holding a heavy gun in her hands.

"Is that…?" Clint gasped, taking in the woman's appearance, matching her face to one in his memory.

"Melody," Natasha confirmed, her hands instinctively going to her guns.

"Melody?" Carter questioned with a frown, knowing the name from somewhere. Then it clicked, an ancient memory hidden deep in her mind, and her eyes became wide with shock. "**Mom?**"


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight Flashback

**Remember to go to my profile and vote for the next story!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Eight - Flashback

_It was a rainy day, and Carter was sitting at the dirt stained window of the small cramped house she shared with her mother. The droplets pitter-pattered their way down the misted pane, Carter's eyes following the slow movements, the same way she always did when it rained. There was a sweet serenity in the rainfall, and it soothed Carter's troubled mind in a way nothing else could. _

_Carter wasn't like anyone else, and even at such a young age, she was able to comprehend why. Her mother had always been honest with her about the experiments on her father, and how the effects had been passed down to her. Carter sat with unblinking eyes during these conversations, absorbing the information without reacting to it. Melody would gather her daughter onto her lap, and stroke her hair while she talked, telling Carter all the things she feared, all the things she'd need to know to survive._

_Carter watched the rain and thought over their most recent discussion. Melody had talked about Zack again; Carter looked just like him, and it made her so proud to see her daughter becoming so strong. Carter took after her father in so many ways, and Melody would describe him to her, tears in her eyes. _

_There was always sadness surrounding Melody. She grieved for her husband, and she was afraid for her daughter. She never hid it, never bothered to try. Carter grew up, her mother crying, weeping and sobbing every other day, and she knew there was nothing she could do to make her happy, but maybe she could protect her. With the strength her father left her, she would stand and fight all those that tried to hurt her mother. She would keep her safe, the way her father had wanted, the reason why he had run, the reason why Carter lived in hiding, why she had always lived in hiding. Her abilities would not be a burden, they would be a blessing._

_So Carter sat by the window more often than not, always watching and waiting for an enemy Melody knew would one day appear, an enemy Carter would fight._

_The rain continued for three days, as did Carter's vigilance, never turning from the window. Melody would bring her food, cover her with blankets, but never tried to pry her away. She knew the futility of it; Carter had told her long ago she sat at the window to protect her. How could Melody scold her for such a sweet thing?_

_On the third day a car approached. Carter's young eyes watched as it pulled up outside the house, driver exiting to open the door for a well dressed man to appear from the back seat. He stood tall, fixing his collar as the driver shielded him from the rain, an umbrella as black as the car held aloft._

"_Mom," Carter said quietly, her mother sitting nearby, resting against the couch as she read. At the sound of her daughter's voice, laced with warning, she rose from her seat, coming to stand beside her at the window. She frowned at the man heading towards the house, hand resting on Carter's shoulder._

"_Go upstairs," she said lowly, shooing her gently._

"_No," came the firm reply. "I'm not leaving." Melody knew her daughter well enough to know any arguing was pointless, and so left her, answering the loud knocking on the door. _

_A few moments later she returned, the man at her side._

"_Carter," she said, beckoning her over. "This is Mr Phelps, he was a friend of your father's." Carter didn't move, merely narrowed her eyes. She didn't believe her mother's words. This man was no friend; he was a threat. "Carter," Melody said again, voice quivering ever so slightly. "Come and say hello."_

"_Hello," Carter obeyed, still motionless. Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she looked back out the window to see another car arriving, four large men spilling out, each more menacing than the last. When she turned back, man number one had her mother held against him, back pressed against his chest, gun held to her temple._

"_Now, now, Carter," he said as she sprung to her feet, fists clenched and eyes wide. "Let's not do anything we'll regret."_

"_Let her go," Carter spat, the four new men entering the house, each equipped with firearms, all aimed at her mother._

"_I'm afraid I need her," 'Mr Phelps' replied easily, a sly grin stretching across his face. "To keep you line, that is."_

"_What do you want?" Carter demanded, body shaking with rage._

"_Oh, it's not about what I want," came a dry reply. "It's about what I _need_. And I need you."_

"_For what?"_

"_Money." Phelps shrugged, barrel of the gun digging into Melody's skin. "N-GES are offering one hell of a reward for you, little girl, and I'll be the one to claim it."_

"_Okay, so why do _they_ want me?" _

"_You are your father's daughter," Phelps said. "And therefore property of N-GES. Your stupid father should never have tried to hide you from them; they're furious."_

"_My father wasn't stupid," Carter burst out before she could help herself, Phelps and his goons laughing at her outrage. "Now, let my mother go!"_

"_Only if you behave," Phelps replied, nodding to one of his men. Carter understood, and reluctantly allowed him to slide a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, fastening them behind her back. The goon then grabbed her hair, tilting her head to the side, plunging a syringe into the pulsing vein in her neck._

"_No!" Melody cried, Phelps releasing her, allowing her to rush forward and catch Carter as she toppled over. She cradled her daughter in her arms, holding her tight against her, as if she could somehow stop this._

"_Mom," Carter whispered, eyes struggling to stay open. "I-"_

"_Fight them!" Melody gasped, tears trickling down her face, knowing the fate her words would bring. She didn't care; her duty was to her daughter. "Fight them, Carter! Don't let them kill you like they did your father. You must fight them, all of them!"_

"_Mom!" Carter cried, her mother suddenly being wrenched away from her, causing her to crash to the ground, eyes still trying to close._

"_You fucking bitch!" Phelps snarled, his goons pushing Melody to her knees in front of him. He struck her with the back of his hand, the smack echoing through the room. "I told you not to do anything stupid! I told you what would happen!"_

"_Mom!" Carter screamed again, her eyes blind with tears. She desperately tried to get up, to move, but her body refused to obey. "__**Mom**__!"_

_As she fell into unconsciousness, the last thing Carter heard was the gunshot, and the last thing she saw before her eyes finally succumbed to the drugs was the sight of her mother sprawled across the floor in front of her, blood spilling out of the fatal wound in the middle of her forehead._

* * *

"Are you suggesting Agent Romanoff is the mole?" Maria exclaimed at Coulson, shocked at his words and what he implied.

"No, but she knows something we don't," Coulson shrugged, as nonchalant as always, despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Natasha used to be a spy," Steve reasoned. "She knows what to watch for, who to watch for. It's not her, I know it. She wouldn't do that to Carter."

"They're not exactly close," Coulson pointed out. "In fact, I don't believe they've spent much time together at all."

"She came to see Carter the other day," Steve suddenly recalled, thinking back to his argument with Tony in the gym. "She wanted to talk to her about something. I think she wanted to warn her about the mole. Why would she do that if it was her?"

"To throw off suspicion," Maria suggested immediately, causing Steve to scoff angrily. She looked to Director Fury, waiting for his input.

"It's not Natasha," Fury decided solemnly. "But it's someone close." He cast his eye over the three of them. "Where's Dr Banner?" He then asked, noting his absence. "He knows S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol; he should be here."

"Banner worked with N-GES once," Coulson mused, arms folded over his chest.

"As an intern," Maria defended the scientist. "He wasn't part of the organization."

"It's still a connection," Fury admitted.

"Are you kidding me?" Steve exploded. "People are dying, Carter could be in danger, and we've got no way of contacting her! We can worry about the spy later, right now we need to take action!" Fury nodded, unable to hide a smile.

"Good idea, Captain," he agreed. "Find Banner. Whether he's a spy or not, he's dangerous in this turmoil. One wrong move and he could become **very** dangerous. Track him down, and move him somewhere safe, somewhere calm. And under no circumstances do you tell him we've lost contact with Carter's team."

"Yes sir," Steve said, nodding curtly. He dashed out of the room, heading for the labs, Bruce's last known whereabouts.

"And us?" Maria asked, ready for orders.

"Get this facility back under control."


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine Confrontation

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**Also, I love this chapter.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Twenty Nine - Confrontation

"Carter, sweetheart," Melody was saying, her voice cold, eyes unsmiling. The four of them still stood on the roof, Carter's mother and the three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, the adjacent building still burning, flames licking the sky as the wind blew around them all. Carter stood, wide eyed and numb, Clint's body shadowing hers, arrow drawn and trained on Melody.

"You died," Carter whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. How could this possibly be her mother, alive and well? "I watched them kill you, I saw you die."

"And you did nothing," Melody spat, the sudden viciousness of her tone startling Carter.

"But they-"

"I'm your mother, and you let me die! I thought you wanted to protect me, day after day, sitting at that window, ever vigilant."

"Mom, I-"

"What good was it in the end?" Melody continued, spittle flying with each word. "All your father's strength, what good did it do? **You let me die**!"

"I never-"

"That's enough," Natasha stepped in, shielding Carter from her mother, guns raised. "Tell me, Melody, who is the spy working for N-GES?" Clint flinched. There was a spy? And no one told him? Was that why Carter had been so on edge? His bowstring remained taut, waiting for Melody to make just one wrong move.

"I see no reason to tell you," she was drawling, shifting the fierce looking gun in her hands. "In fact, I see no reason in you at all."

Natasha had dove out of the way before Carter had even realised the gun had been fired, shots ringing through the air as bullet after bullet burst forward. Clint loosed an arrow, but Melody raised a hand, catching it easily, snapping it between her fingers, then tossing it aside.

"You'll have to do better than that, lover boy," she snarled, unleashing another hail of bullets, this time in his direction. Clint pushed Carter away from him and ducked behind a row of crates, Carter crashing to the ground just in time to miss the shells. She gasped, the breathed knocked out of her, her brain unable to wrap itself around what was going on. Why was her mother trying to kill her? How was she even alive? Carter saw her die, all those years ago. What had happened after she blacked out? What had happened since?

"Carter!" Natasha screamed at her, guns firing at Melody, who dodged the bullets with ease. "Get up and fight!" But Carter couldn't move, she simply lay where Clint had pushed her, staring up at the blue sky. "**Carter**!"

"I can't," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I won't fight her."

"Lovely sentiment, dear," Melody spoke sarcastically, leaning over her daughter, Carter opening her eyes to meet her mother's cold ones. "But you're the one I'm here for."

"Get away from her!" Clint's voice rang out, arrows flying at Melody. She weaved out of the way, but one caught her shoulder, halting her. She glanced down at the producing shaft, before yanking it brutally out of her flesh, blood spurting from the wound as she tossed the arrow away. Natasha used the lull in action to her advantage, hurling herself at Melody, knocking her to the ground. Natasha grabbed her arms, pulling them behind Melody's back, leaving her defenceless.

"I'd let go if I were you, little widow," she chuckled, rolling her head back.

"I see no reason," Natasha retorted, mirroring Melody's words from before.

"No, but maybe you can _feel _one."

Natasha shrieked in pain as the electricity surged through her, frying her nerves and burning through her blood. She released Melody, collapsing to the ground, unconscious, near death. Her breathing was shallow and shaky.

"Natasha!" Clint yelled, charging towards Melody, firing arrow after arrow as he approached. Melody deflected them with little bursts of electricity appearing from her hands, causing them to ricochet in all directions, Carter shielding her face with her arms as a couple landed near her.

"Natasha," she gasped, her senses suddenly returning to her. She bolted to her feet, and rushed to Natasha's side with Clint, Melody stalking around them in a wide circle, enjoying their fear and pain. "Is she…?" Carter couldn't finish the question, but Clint answered anyway.

"She's alive," he sighed in relief. "Just. We have to get her to safety, Carter, you have to fight."

"I will," she vowed, rising to her full height.

"Oh?" Melody questioned with a smug smirk, hearing the entire exchange. "_Now _you'll fight?"

"I don't know who you are," Carter spoke, voice shaking from the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. "But you are not my mother. You have her face, her voice, but not her soul."

"Perhaps it leaked out when somebody killed me?" Melody suggested, the bite returning to her voice. "When my precious daughter failed to protect me like she swore she would?"

"I was a child," Carter replied, letting out a deep breath she had held onto for years. "It wasn't my fault." Never had she admitted that before. The confession felt good, and Carter felt the guilt slip from her shoulders and fade into nothingness. "It wasn't my fault," she repeated, the sentence giving her strength.

"It was all your fault," Melody growled. "And if I had the option, I would strike you down, here and now, in front of the man you love, let him watch you die. But, unfortunately, my orders make that impossible. Instead, I'll kill _him_, and let _you _watch!"

"No!" Carter screamed, but it was too late. Thrusting a hand out in front of her, Melody shot a beam of light straight at Clint, who was still crouched over Natasha. "Clint!" It hit him square in the chest, sending him flying. His body smacked against the far wall, and he crumpled to the floor, his face lack and his body still. "Clint!" Carter flew to his side, turning him over and pressing an ear to his chest.

Nothing. Her blood froze and her heart broke. There was nothing.

"No," she pleaded, tears spilling from her eyes. "No!"

"He's dead, my love," Melody spoke up, no comfort in her voice at all. "And she will be soon," she added, a foot nudging Natasha's barely living body. "It's time for us to go."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Carter shouted, whipping round, arm raised forward. Her laser fired at Melody, the strength enough to kill her stone dead, but she didn't even try to evade it. She pushed her chest out, letting the ray hit her, and Carter watched, aghast, as her mother seemed to absorb the energy into her body, her eyes shining bright.

"That won't work, I'm afraid," she cooed, grinning evilly. "Just like mine-" she fired another beam, this one colliding with Carter before she could react. Instead of pain, Carter felt the electricity enter her suit and then her body, giving her even more strength. "-won't hurt you," Melody finished.

_Electricity_, Carter thought. She was made of the stuff. Ignoring Melody, she turned back to Clint, looking at the pad in the centre of her glove. Tony had designed it to pass electricity into conductive objects, like her daggers But maybe, just maybe…

Melody seemed to have the same thought. She rushed at her daughter, a powerful kick knocking her away from Clint's lifeless body, sending her sprawling across the rooftop.

"No!" Carter gasped. She had to help Clint! She might be able to save him! Pushing the pain aside, she stood, eyes locked with her mother's. "Get out of my way," she said, her voice low and menacing.

"I won't let you waste your time trying to save one pathetic man," Melody said, grasping hold of Clint's vest, lifting him into the air.

With a jolt, Carter realised she meant to throw him over the edge of the rooftop, and out of her reach. She snatched one of her daggers from the sheath on her lower back, hurling it with expert precision at Melody's arm. It slammed into the flesh, severing the tendons and muscles, causing her to drop Clint's body. Carter ran, legs propelling her with a speed she didn't know she had, to Clint's side, pulling him to her chest and out of Melody's reach.

She lay him down, and used her other dagger to slit his vest, baring his chest to her, but Melody was heading for her again. Thinking quickly, Carter summoned all the energy she could, and fired at Melody with both lasers. She knew it wouldn't hurt her, but the sheer force of the energy entering her body knocked her off her feet, and sent her flying.

With Melody occupied, Carter returned to Clint, placing her hands on either side of his heart and send a small shock through her palms. His chest jolted, but nothing happened.

"Come on," she breathed, shocking him again. Still nothing. Tilting his head back, Carter blew into his mouth, then began to pump his chest. Still nothing. More blowing, more pumping, more shocking. "Please," she whispered, tears tumbling from her eyes, landing on his chest.

"It won't work!" Melody cried, stumbling back to her feet. With a snarl, Carter fired her lasers again, with even more power coursing in the electricity, Melody unable to defend against the shockwave.

"It **will **work," Carter insisted. Once again she repeated the cycle, and then, after a long moment of doubt, Clint's back arched with the shock, his mouth taking in a gasping breath. "Clint!" Carter cried, taking his head in her hands.

He was still in pretty bad shape, she knew, but he was alive. He had come back to her. She looked to Natasha, whose chest still rose and fell feebly, and then to Melody, who was still struggling to stand. Then she sighed. Her energy was falling, and she knew those blasts had just made her mother stronger. She only had one choice.

As Melody rose again, Carter sent what was left of her power through the lasers once more, not waiting to watch her mother fall. She hoisted Clint up over one shoulder, and charged towards the quinjet. Once he was aboard, she turned back for Natasha, pulling her unconscious form up beside Clint.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the two of them, leaning over the pilot's seat and slamming her fist down on the emergency button. "But I need to know what happened to her."

As the jet took to the air, Carter slipped through the entrance as it closed automatically, landing on the rooftop to watch as the auto-pilot engaged and headed for S.H.I.E.L.D. Central.

"They'll die before it reaches it's destination," Melody cackled, Carter turning to see her mother had finally managed to compose herself. Her body seemed to glow from all the electricity Carter had poured inside her.

"I'll die before I let you kill them," Carter retorted, panting slightly as her vision began to blur. Her energy had finally run out. How long would she be unconscious for this time, she wondered. Bruce had said two weeks before. Bruce? _He'll understand_, Carter told herself. _He'll know I had to find out the truth. Something changed her…someone changed her._

With that last thought, Carter crashed to her knees, catching herself with her hands as she fell forwards. Melody laughed cruelly, enjoying her daughter's defeat.

"Time to go, my love," she crooned, hands locking around Carter's neck, cutting off her air supply. As the last of her energy ebbed away, Carter was vaguely aware of being lifted into the air, feet dangling limply as her vision faded to black.

"_Time to go home."_


	31. Chapter Thirty Back Under Control

**Remember to go to my profile and vote for the next story!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty - Back Under Control

"Banner?" Steve yelled, bursting into the scientist's lab. "Bruce? Are you in here?" A quick scan of the room revealed it to be empty, Bruce nowhere to be found. "Dammit," Steve cursed, turning back into the corridor. Racking his brains as he ran, Steve desperately tried to figure out where Bruce would go.

_Somewhere quiet_, he supposed. _One of the lower levels with higher security._ Heading for the stairs, the elevator not working, he descended quickly, practically jumping from floor to floor. Near 22B, a sign caught his eye.

**Breaker Room**

_Of course!_ Steve thought triumphantly, following the direction the sign was pointing. Bruce would most likely be trying to restore the power to the facility. Wrenching the door open, (who had time for pass codes right now?), Steve entered the room, the usual flickering and humming of the machines absent.

"Bruce?" He called once more, making his way through the room.

"Steve?" Bruce asked, forehead covered in sweat as he popped up from behind a large hard drive. "What're you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Steve replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "Fury was worried you'd Hulk out on us, with all the commotion going on."

"Vote of confidence," Bruce muttered to himself. "Excellent."

"Any luck?" Steve then asked, crouching down next to the scientist.

"That chip there," Bruce explained, nodding his head at a small piece of technology that sat on the floor next to him. "Was scrambling the system's A.I., preventing wireless access to override it. I detached it, but I'm still trying to restore the facility's basic functions."

"The elevator would be a great start," Steve huffed with a grin, ignoring the fact he didn't understand most of what Bruce just said. "I leapt down about thirty flights of stairs trying to find you."

"Sorry," Bruce murmured, tapping away at a keypad wired into the main computer. "I'm working on communications first."

"Good idea," Steve agreed, clapping him on the shoulder, standing upright. "Can I trust you here then? I mean, you won't…lose it?"

"I'll be fine," Bruce assured him, smiling to himself. "With my mind occupied, the 'other guy' doesn't get much of a look in."

"Once you've got those lines back up, contact Fury," Steve instructed him, heading for the door. "He'll have a idea what to do next."

"Wait, Steve!" Bruce suddenly called, voice urgent. Steve turned back, frowning. "This was obviously an inside job," he said, lowering his glasses to wipe the lenses on his shirt. "And it's no accident it happened while Carter was away."

"I know," Steve nodded, trying to keep the man calm. "But she can look after herself, Bruce. Besides, I can't imagine Clint ever letting anything happen to her."

"Someone's infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.," Bruce continued, his forehead creasing in worry. "Someone after Carter-"

"Don't worry about it," Steve cut him off. "She'll be fine-"

"Stop lying to me!" Bruce yelled, slamming his fist down on the topside of the hard drive. "You haven't heard from her, and this whole thing-" he waved his arms around him. "-is just a distraction! She's in trouble, Steve!"

"Just get communications back up," Steve repeated, accepting Bruce's words. "And then we can get in touch with her." Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"We can't let her down, Steve," he said, opening them again to look at the super soldier.

"We won't."

* * *

"_Sir?_" JARVIS's voice broke through Tony's concentration as the billionaire attempted to build a house of cards.

"Oh, come on!" He cursed, the house tumbling down over his desk. "What is it, JARVIS?"

"_Sir, I appear to have lost all communications with S.H.I.E.L.D. and it's operatives," _the A.I. spoke seriously.

"What?" Tony stood abruptly, the chair toppling over behind him.

"_I have been unable to connect to any of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s servers, rendering communication impossible."_

"Well," Tony sighed, crossing the room to the glass wall containing his newest suit. "That can only mean one of two things; either Fury's found someone smarter than me, and been able to lock me out of their grid. Or, much, **much **more likely; they're under attack."

"_Shall I assemble your suit, sir?"_

"Do it," Tony instructed, standing in the circle on the floor, arms outstretched. He hummed to himself nonchalantly as JARVIS's machinery built the suit around his body. "And Carter?" He asked, remembering she had a mission today.

"_I have been unable to contact her, sir,"_ JARVIS replied. "_Nor have I been able to reach Agents Romanoff or Barton."_

"Fantastic," Tony muttered, his sharp mind putting the pieces together quickly. "What do you think, JARVIS? Should I find Carter, or help Fury?"

"_I have no reason to believe Carter is in immediate danger, sir," _the computer offered. "_However, with communications down, Director Fury is at a severe disadvantage if S.H.I.E.L.D. were attacked."_

"Yeah," Tony sighed, the last piece of his armour clicking into place. His arc reactor began to whirr as it's power pulsed through the suit. "I figured I'd get stuck helping him. Just once, could I please go save the damsel in distress?"

"_My apologies, sir," _JARVIS drawled as Tony took off, the windows of the Stark Tower opening to allow Iron Man to make a dramatic exit. "_Shall I keep an ear to ground, just in case a distressed damsel needs rescuing?"_

"You do that," Tony agreed, knowing full well the A.I. was messing with him. "I'll go rescue a director in distress instead."

"_Excellent choice, sir."_

* * *

Clint's head was pounding, every fibre of his being in agony. _What happened?_ He thought groggily, head rolling to the side as he groaned.

"Clint?"

The voice sounded so far away, and his eyes were too heavy to open. He groaned again, unable to speak.

"I think he's still out of it, doc."

Clint knew the voices, but his foggy mind couldn't put names to them right now. One was the doctor, he figured, but the other…it hurt to much to think.

"Well, at last Natasha's back on her feet," the first voice said.

_Natasha? She's here, too?_ He couldn't remember what happened, but it made sense somehow. In some cloudy corner of his mind, it rang a bell. _There was a fight,_ he tried to piece together. _And then…_

Nothing. More pain as he tried to think, but no memories.

"They were both in pretty bad shape, doc," voice number two was replying. "It's just lucky you managed to restore control to the facility before the jet got too close; the rogue A.I. probably would have caused it to crash."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you and your suit would have prevented that anyway. You always turn up at the nick of time, don't you?"

_Suit?_ Clint only knew one man with a suit that could prevent the jet from crashing, and that was Tony Stark. His must be the second voice.

"It's a talent," the voice belonging to Tony drawled.

"Please," a sudden third voice scoffed, another Clint knew. "You probably just hang around, out of sight, until you can find the most dramatic moment to turn up."

"You wound me, Cap."-

Captain Steve Rogers. That was the new voice, Clint decided. His body stirred as he tried to force it to obey, but it still refused to rise. The voices quietened, most likely observing him, but soon began again, realising he wasn't moving anytime soon.

"Still nothing from Carter?" The first voice, the doctor's voice, asked.

_Carter?_ The name tugged on Clint's heartstrings, but…he couldn't place it.

"No," the captain spoke after heaving a heavy sigh. "Fury's with Natasha, but she doesn't know what happened after she blacked out. Carter could be anywhere."

"She didn't go down without a fight," Tony then said firmly.

"Coulson had a team examine the jet," Steve mentioned, but his voice seemed to be fading away. _No,_ Clint thought stubbornly. _I have to stay awake…I have to hear this._ "The finger prints on the emergency panel are Carter's, and there's no sign of a struggle on board."

"She sent them away?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Yeah, seems that way," Steve replied.

"She must've got them on board, hit the button, then left." Doctor Banner's voice was dimming too.

"Why? If all three were on board, why would she go back?"

Clint never heard the reply. He finally lost his fight and fell back into unconsciousness, still desperately trying to remember who Carter was, and why her name made his heart race in fear.

In the lab, oblivious to Clint's moments of consciousness, the three continued talking.

"Natasha said Melody was strong," Steve was informing Tony, whose anger at Carter's decision was causing his jaw to tense. "Stronger than Carter perhaps. If she couldn't defeat her, she must've wanted to at least save the others."

"Stupid kid," Tony seethed, storming to the computer when he sat down and furiously began to type. "Stupid kid."

"Go easy on her, Tony," Bruce tried to cajole him. "I mean, she loves Clint; of course she'd want to protect him."

"And fighting her mother," Steve pointed out. "Not even knowing she was alive…it must've been tough."

"Yeah, well, now **we **don't even know if **Carter's **alive," Tony continued to rave. "And Sitwell's not been much use either."

"I've been looking at the microchip N-GES used on him," Bruce then remembered, crossing the lab to where he had it lain out for inspection. "Completely disrupts his thought patterns, and manipulates them in turn with remote access."

"What does that mean?" Steve, still new to the technology of the day, asked.

"It means if some fat-ass with a computer hits certain buttons, our good agent friend does whatever he's told," Tony explained sourly. "Why didn't S.H.I.E.L.D. check for anything like that when you guys brought him back?"

"I guess they thought the attack was reason enough to lure Carter in," Steve guessed with a shrug. "Didn't seem worth checking if their recovered agent had become a spy."

"And if Natasha knew who it was the entire time," Tony continued. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"Come on," Bruce said, shaking his head. "I don't think she knew the **entire** time."

"I do," Tony countered. "She's too good at what she does not to have known."

"I didn't know."

All three men turned to find a weary Natasha in the doorway, her skin still paler than usual, and her hair limp.

"I assumed it was Jasper," she then continued, crossing the room to stand at Clint's beside, looking down at her fellow agent emotionlessly. "But I didn't know for sure until I heard about the attack here." She sighed, looking up at Bruce. "How is he?" She then asked, a faint tone of sadness in her voice.

"Unchanged," Bruce replied, wishing he had a better answer for her. "Occasionally stirring, mumbling, but never waking. From what I can tell, he was medically dead for around five minutes, and that's far too long not to expect some sort of complications. There's no telling when he'll snap out of it, could be a month, could be in thirty seconds."

"I wish I knew what happened," Natasha muttered, mostly to herself, one hand resting on Clint's forearm. "And what happened to Carter."

"We were just discussing our beloved Sparkstrike actually," Tony informed her, his foul mood beginning to evaporate. "We've decided that she got the two of you on board, hit the emergency homing button, then returned to the fight, but…we can't be sure."

"I'm sure," Steve stated, giving Tony a not so subtle glare. "She must've wanted to protect you both from Melody." Natasha sighed, stepping back from Clint.

"She wanted to protect _him_," she corrected with a sad smile. "And couldn't leave me behind." She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself a slight pang of jealously, envying the love Clint and Carter had for each other. Maybe, when this was all over…she'd see about finding herself someone.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, the moment having passed in an instant.

"The facility is officially fully operational again," she then briskly informed the three men watching her curiously. "And Fury means to arm and launch the Helicarrier. We're all wanted in the briefing room; it's time to plan Carter's rescue."

* * *

**Remember to go to my profile and vote for the next story!**

**Jay X**


	32. Chapter Thirty One Issuing Orders

**Remember to go to my profile and vote for the next story!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty One - Issuing Orders

"Doctor Banner," Fury began, the briefing room full of his agents and more. "Give me a status update of Agent Barton."

"No changes," Bruce replied, shaking his head as he wrung his hands. "He's comatose and staying that way, Carter's rescue will have to happen without him."

"That's probably for the best anyway," Agent Maria Hill, Fury's second in command offered. "He's far too emotional in the field, and chances are Carter's in bad shape right now."

"I'm sorry," Tony spoke up, the man of iron having been offered inclusion in the rescue. "But you're worried about _Barton_ losing control? Isn't Bruce accompanying us?"

"I refuse to sit this one out," Bruce insisted, before Fury had a chance to speak. "We're breaking in to N-GES's main compound, and if there is one thing the other guy loves, it's breaking."

"The rescuing part is pretty paramount too, you know," Steve piped up, frowning slightly.

"We need Banner's strength," Natasha stated, rendering the argument moot. "Especially considering we're two agents down."

"Stark," Fury then addressed the genius. "I'm aware the last time I asked this favour, you instead attempted to hack our database, but this time I'm sure you understand the severity of the situation; I need all the information on N-GES Stark Industries has."

"Got it, boss," Tony saluted, sliding his sidekick out of his pocket and typing away. "I'm uploading it to your servers now."

"Wait," Steve said, holding a hand up to Tony. "Why does Stark Industries have so much info on N-GES in the first place?"

"Well," Tony hesitated slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We _were_ a weapons manufacturer, and N-GES were one of our clients a while back. For the sake of national security we research any corporation we supply weapons to, and that includes, but is not limited to, in depth employee databases, blueprints of their buildings, and personal meetings with their company director and board."

"So, you know the head honcho?" Bruce asked, only for Tony to shake his head.

"Like I said, it was a while back," he explained. "Before I started taking the helm and still spent most of my time in the labs. Obadiah, my dad's partner, would've been the one going to all the meetings." He then sighed, shaking his head again. "Though, in hindsight, he probably didn't give a damn if they were terrorists or not, as long as they paid good money and kept quiet."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow," Steve spoke up, his expression somewhat confused.

"He was dealing under the table," Tony replied with something of a shrug. "Plotting to over throw me, selling to terrorists. Luckily, Iron Man saw to that. Though," he then said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If he hadn't have had me kidnapped, I wouldn't have created Iron Man in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha drawled, rolling her eyes. "Every cloud..."

"We're getting off subject," Coulson put in, eyes scanning through the screeds of information that had appeared on his laptop. "We need to sift through this information; a lot of it will be obsolete. The company officially declared bankruptcy years ago, and ceased trading."

"Stark will help you go through it all," Fury decided, nodding to the man himself.

"Oh, come on," he groaned, hardly thrilled at the monotony of the task.

"As will Agents Hill and Romanoff," the director continued, simply ignoring Tony's outburst. Fortunately, the two female agents didn't seem as opposed to the assignment, or they at least kept it to themselves. "Doctor Banner, keep an eye on Agent Barton, and inform me of any improvements. He may be able to supply us with more of what happened between Carter and Melody Thomas."

"Sure."

"What about me?" Steve asked, looking up at the boss. He wasn't any good with computers, and had no medical training, he knew that, but surely Fury would have a job for him too.

"You're good with maps," Fury stated. "We need to find N-GES's most likely whereabouts, you'll work with the information the others supply you, and find me their location."

"Yes, sir!"

"You have your orders," the director then said, addressing them all. "Get to it."

* * *

The world was something of a blur when Carter finally opened her eyes. Her body was sluggish and unresponsive, and she felt as though she had slept for a week. Her eyes focused on the ceiling, unfamiliar white tiles covering it, causing her to frown.

_Where am I?_ She questioned herself, trying to sit up. Restraints held her down, and upon turning to head to examine them, she discovered she was lying on what seemed to be a medical bed. _Am I in the med bay? _She wondered. _Is Bruce here?_

No, she realised quickly. This room was nothing like the bright clean medical wing in S.H.I.E.L.D. Central, the only light stood next to Carter's bed, shining in her face, the glare making it impossible to examine the rest of the room. It seemed small though, her bed squashed into a corner. She looked to the wall she was against, startled by the photographs covering it from floor to ceiling.

It was her father, sprawled in what looked to be the very bed she was laying upon now, face contorted in agony, body writhing, wrapped in a hospital gown. There was several of him, all in a similar position. Carter guessed it to be his progress during the programme. In some he was covered in blood, some restful, and others the same as the first that had caught her eye, in agony.

It was her mother. Other photographs overlapped the first, showing Melody Thomas, once again upon the same bed. She wore the same blood stained hospital gown, hands cuffed by her sides, just like Carter's were now, copper hair matted and tangled and clumped around her head. There were no restful photos of her; she was in constant pain.

It was her. Carter Thomas, young Carter Thomas, strapped on the same bed, the same gown dwarfing her frail body, black hair stained with blood as she cried out in silent agony, straining against the thick leather straps that held her in place.

And then there was another Carter Thomas, the Carter Thomas she was now. Obviously taken recently, she was in the position she was in now, still cuffed to the bed, and wearing that awful blood soaked hospital gown. In a few of Zack's pictures it had been white, but now there was little white left.

Looking down at her body with a gasp, Carter saw she was, in fact, currently wearing it. The gown that had covered her father, her mother and herself. That wore all three of their bloods proudly, the once bright red stains decaying to a rusty brown, crackled and peeling. As the dread set in in her stomach, Carter realised the horrible truth.

She was back.

Back in that god forsaken laboratory where the white coats hovered over her, needles and tubes and pipes and knives digging through her flesh to her oh so precious blood, desperately trying to siphon it away. As a child she had no idea this was where the experiments of her father had taken place, and she currently had no idea when the experiments on her mother had taken place, but she knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt, this is where the experiments on her had taken place.

"No!" She cried out, the fear and panic causing her voice to choke up. "No!" She couldn't be back here, she refused to believe it, but how could she deny it? Her eyes, full of tears, travelled back to the photograph covered wall, the expressions of pain on all three of their faces haunting her. "NO!"

With a burst of energy, she wrenched her right arm away from the bed and the clutches of the leather bonds, quickly bringing it over to unfasten the buckles restraining her left. She then pulled herself up, shaking fingers hastily freeing her ankles of similar straps, and leapt from the bed, crashing into the floor lamp that had been baring down on her, knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter.

The light shone to the other side of the room, where a man was sitting, reclining almost, in an armchair, watching the spectacle with wry amusement. Carter clambered to her feet, having fallen with the lamp, to glare at him, recognising him immediately.

"You!" She spat, fists clenching at her side, body shaking with rage and fear.

"Me," he agreed, grinning evilly, arms opened as if to beckon her forward into an embrace. "I've missed you, my child."

"Don't call me that!" Carter yelled, the words striking her heart with an unimaginable force, causing her stagger back from the weight of the memories. "Never call me that." Her breath began to come in short gasps, and she fell to her knees, forehead beading with sweat.

"Careful, my dear," the man spoke, rising from his seat slowly, crossing the darkened laboratory to her. "You haven't quite recovered, and we extracted **a lot** of blood from you."

"No," she hissed, trying to scuttle away from him as he reached a hand out to stroke her greasy hair.

"Oh, yes," he confirmed, his fingers harshly scraping through her tangles, snapping strands from her scalp. "We've gotten rather good at it in your absence, which you will be punished for, of course. But first, I'd like to reintroduce you to your mother, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nearly nineteen years."

"My mother is dead," Carter insisted, her vision changing hue. _Why is everything turning pink instead of black?_ She thought, the fog seeping through her mind preventing her from making sense of anything.

"I'm afraid that's not the case," the man disagreed, hand digging into the roots of Carter's hair, dragging her up from the floor, and pushing her back onto the bed. In her weakened state, Carter could barely protest, feeling the all too familiar sensation of unconsciousness creeping back upon her. "But that's a story for another day. Melody!" He called sweetly, cupping his hand to his mouth to amplify the sound. "Melody, sweetheart, come here."

Carter could have retched if she had the energy. All evil men had the same ability to inject their voice with such a sickeningly sweet tone, but to hear it address her mother…it was too much.

"Hello, my love," Melody's voice drifted into Carter's ears, sounding the same way it did all those years ago.

_No, _Carter told herself. _It's not her. It's a trick. Don't believe them._ But the arms that wrapped around her felt so familiar, and the scent was one she knew well. Tears spilling from her eyes, Carter let her mother hold her tight and cried until the darkness took over. _You died. I saw you die._ Her thoughts swirled around in her mind, until they fell silent and all that remained was Carter and Melody holding each other once more as the world raged around them.

* * *

**Remember to go to my profile and vote for the next story!**

**Jay X**


	33. Chapter Thirty Two Smash

**I changed the poll to multiple selections, since I was getting a few messages from conflicted readers, haha! Please go and vote!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Two - Smash

Natasha, Bruce, Tony and Steve were silent as the quinjet began it's descent. Using Stark Industry's knowledge of N-GES, and Steve's cartography skills, the team were able to pinpoint an approximate location for the organization's new base of operations. Deep in the heart of Brazil, alarmingly close to where Carter had been living recently, stood a seemingly abandoned warehouse, but under closer inspection, it was heavily fortified and well guarded.

Not that the team were expecting anything less.

A few yards from the ground, Tony suddenly turned to Bruce.

"Yo mama's so fat, I…uh…hang on…"

"Tony, what're you doing?" Natasha called back from the pilot's seat, frowning in confusion.

"I'm trying to make Bruce angry," he replied, frustrated. "Gimme a minute…Got it! Yo mama's so fat, she bathes in the ocean!"

"What?" Bruce spluttered, choking on a laugh.

"Tony!" Steve scolded, thinking Tony was actually mocking Bruce's mother. Having spent the past seventy years frozen, he was unaware of the 'yo mama' craze.

"It's fine," Bruce chuckled, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Tony, don't worry; I can get angry myself just fine."

"I still don't think we should be bringing mothers into this," Steve insisted, forever noble. "Especially with what Carter's going through with hers." Tony couldn't help but roll his eyes, and even Natasha cracked a small smile.

"Well, doctor," she spoke up, the jet finally touching ground. "Time to get angry; here comes the welcoming committee." He nodded with a grin as the door dropped open, darting outside.

A moment later, a deafening roar rang through the air, followed by machine gun fire. Natasha, Steve and Tony simply watched in amusement as the Hulk easily tore through the guards pouring from the building, throwing some aside, pounding others into the ground. As the last wave ran out, huge security doors slammed shut, intending to prevent the Avengers from gaining access.

"I've got that one," Tony declared, already suited up. His face mask flipped down into position and he jumped from the jet, taking flight to blast the door, avoiding the Hulk and the poor men he was still chucking about.

His first blast didn't do much, but he wasn't really expecting it to.

"JARVIS," he said to the A.I. "Focus all energy into the chest repulsar."

"_Yes, sir._" Came the immediate reply, and Tony felt his suit whir with power, the arc reactor beginning to light up brighter than before. With a grunt, he pushed his chest forehead, the ray bursting it's way through the heavy doors.

"Easy," he said to himself, lowering to stand upon the ground, the Hulk having grown bored of the unconscious men at his disposal.

"**Smash**!" He roared disappointedly.

"Sorry, big guy," Tony apologized. "But you were busy with the guards."

"**SMASH**!" The Hulk yelled again, hammering his fists into the dirt.

"You can get the next one," Tony promised.

"**Smash**!" The Hulk agreed with a grin and a nod. With that he charged ahead into the warehouse, taking Tony's words as permission.

"Where's he off to?" Natasha asked, her and Steve arriving beside Tony.

"To smash, presumably," Tony replied with a shrug. "He was annoyed I blasted the door, so I said he could get the next one; he must be off looking for it."

"Boys and their toys," Natasha sighed, taking off after the Hulk, a path of destruction clearly highlighting the way.

"Let's go, Cap," Tony called, taking to the air again and zooming off. Steve nodded, raising his shield as he followed.

Sure enough, the Hulk had seen fit to devastate every door he found, none of them posing enough of a challenge to satiate him. By the time the three had caught up to him he was punching holes in a nearby wall, reducing the cement an stone to dust and debris.

"Hulk!" Steve called, holding up his shield to protect himself from an explosion of rubble beneath the Hulk's fist. "Come on, we need to find Carter!" The Hulk calmed slightly, turning to the Captain he accepted as a leader.

"**Find**!" He shouted in agreement.

At their intrusion, more goons began to attack, and the Hulk was more than happy to put off the search so he could smash a little more. This time Steve, Natasha and Tony joined the fight, all four heroes working together again, fending off an attack.

Steve hurled his shield back and forth, knocking enemies to the side while he punched and kicked his way through the others.

Natasha danced around in a catlike precision, throttling guards with her legs as she wrapped them around necks and torsos. Using her Widow's Bite, she disposed of all that came her way.

Tony dodged bullets neatly as he wove through the air, firing lasers and repulsar rays left, right and centre, his computerised aim easily avoiding his allies.

And the Hulk did what the Hulk did best. He smashed goons into walls, into the concrete floor, and even into the ceiling if the mood took him, but he was careful not to strike his friends. He'd done that before.

"There can't be many more," Steve panted as the last man fell. "The warehouse isn't big enough to hold a full scale army."

"Reinforcements could have been called in," Natasha pointed out.

"I haven't detected any signals being transmitted," Tony informed them, landing smoothly beside the Hulk, who was prodding a nearby corpse, seemingly disappointed in it's stillness.

"**Smash**?" He asked loudly, even his indoor voice coming out as a roar.

"You got it, big guy," Tony replied nonchalantly.

"Tony!" Natasha scolded as the Hulk charged off once more, eager to find more goons to play with. "We need to find Carter!"

"We will," Steve assured her, clamping a hand on her shoulder.

"The Hulk will tear down every wall he can," Natasha insisted. "The last thing we need is a structural cave in."

"Ah," Tony said, seeing her point. "JARVIS," he then said, addressing the A.I. "Can we pick up any electrical readings similar to Carter's?"

"_I'm afraid not, sir,"_ came the reply. "_I am unable to pick up Agent Thomas's vital signs at all."_

"Well, that's not good," Steve sighed, Tony relaying JARVIS's reply to them.

"It's not unexpected," Natasha stated. "The only way they could keep her subdued would be if she was weak. Plus," she then added lowly. "They probably started more experiments as soon as they got her through the door."

The sudden roar reminded the three of them that the Hulk had run off again, and after sharing a look, they raced after him.

"**Smash**!" The Hulk's voice echoed through the building, spurring the team on, determined to catch up to him.

"Just try it!" A familiar voice snarled, causing all three to screech to a stop. Just ahead of them stood the Hulk, breathing heavily as he stared down a young woman with short blonde hair, her roots jet black.

"Carter!" Steve yelled, feet propelling him forward. "Carter, it's us!"

Carter turned, frowning at the man, woman and red metal thing rushing towards her. With a yell, she thrust her hands forward. Lifting his shield just in the nick of time, Steve was to protect himself from the electrified beam she had fired at him.

"Carter!" This time it was Natasha who called her name. "What are you doing? It's us!"

Her words fell of deaf ears, and as they got closer it was clear Carter knew exactly who they were.

And she intended to fight them.

* * *

**I changed the poll to multiple selections, since I was getting a few messages from conflicted readers, haha! Please go and vote!**

**Jay X**


	34. Chapter Thirty Three Enemies Pretending

**I changed the poll to multiple selections, since I was getting a few messages from conflicted readers, haha! Please go and vote!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Three - Enemies Pretending To Be Friends

"_Carter!"_ There was a voice. "_Carter, it's us!" _Calling her. She knew it well, but couldn't place it.

"_Carter!"_ Another voice. Still calling. _"What are you doing? It's us!"_ Us? Who was Us? The name didn't sound familiar, even though the voice did.

She heard yelps of pain, a deafening roar, someone shouting commands, someone shouting questions. Then her name again.

"_Carter!"_ It came. "_Don't do this!"_ This? What was she doing? She wasn't aware of doing anything. All around her was black, and she was motionless, unmoving. She wasn't doing anything.

"_It's no use."_ More voices, more familiarity, still no idea who it was. _"They've done something to her!"_ Something? They? Nothing made sense.

"Help," she tried to say, voice betraying her. "Please, someone help." No one seemed to hear her; the voices were still shouting. "Clint." Clint, the one man she trusted with her entire being, the man who loved her, where was he? She needed him. "Clint!" She tried again, but no sound came out. "Clint, please hear me! Help me!"

"_No one tell Clint,"_ the voices again. No one tell Clint what? She was desperate to ask. Was Clint here? Did Us know him? Did They know him? "_Hulk; smash!" _

No more questions. No more darkness. Just nothing but pain.

* * *

"Carter!" Steve yelled, shielding himself from another blast directed at him. "Don't do this!" Carter only looked at him coldly, firing more beams from her laser at them all, the team evading, but never engaging.

"It's no use," Natasha panted, dodging yet another ray of electricity, pulling her twin pistols out. "They've done something to her!"

"They?" Carter spat, finally ceasing in her barrage of electricity. "They've freed me! Now I can see clearly!"

"And what are you seeing?" Tony drawled, his mask flipping up to reveal his face in a frown.

"I see four enemies pretending to be friends," Carter revealed, her voice thick with anger and betrayal. "All S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted was a new toy to play with, and you all helped them lie to me!"

"Carter!" Steve pleaded, stepping towards her. "It's N-GES that are using you, it was N-GES that kidnapped you and tortured you! They killed your father, and your mother!"

"My mother is alive," Carter insisted, raising her arm to aim her laser at Steve, halting him in his tracks. "But you're here to kill her, don't try to lie to me!"

"Carter, we're here to save you!" Natasha shouted, the Hulk roaring in agreement. "And your mother!" Steve and Tony looked to her, both thinking the same thing.

"Are we?" Tony asked. "I thought it was just Carter we were rescuing?"

"It was," Natasha agreed, eyes never leaving Carter's. "But if we can save Melody we will; we owe it to Carter for lying to her."

"Lying?" This time it was Steve who questioned Natasha.

"We had reason to believe Melody was alive," Natasha explained, Carter's lips curling into a snarl.

"You bastards!" She screamed, the air crackling with the static pouring from Carter's body.

"We didn't know for sure," Natasha continued, undeterred by Carter's outburst. "And we didn't want to get her hopes up if it might not be true."

"But it was true!" Carter shouted, fists clenched at her sides, shaking with rage. "She was alive and no one told me!"

"We were trying to protect you!" Natasha replied adamantly. "Clint wanted-"

"Clint was Fury's idea of a distraction!" Carter cut Natasha off venomously. "Keep me occupied so I wouldn't think to question him! Clint was the biggest liar of all of you!"

"He loves you!" Tony defended the archer. "And right now he's in a coma, because he tried to protect you! Carter, he could die!"

"He deserves it!" Carter yelled, but her eyes betrayed her. Even the Hulk could see the real Carter fighting against those words, trapped somewhere inside this monster. The part of him that was still Bruce mewled in pity, knowing the sensation all too well, and the Hulk let out a roar, feeling the conflicted emotions of his other self.

"We can't reason with her," Steve said lowly, Carter's last statement proving that she was lost to them. "She's too far gone." Tony and Natasha nodded solemnly, Tony's mask flipping back down into place.

"No one tell Clint," he said, stepping up beside the Hulk and giving him a nudge. Steve sighed, knowing they had no choice, and Natasha nodded once again. "Hulk," Tony said to the beast. "Smash!"

* * *

Clint awoke with a gasp, the monitor connected to him blaring violently as his heart rate soared. In a blind panic, Clint wrenched the plugs and needles from his body, eyes wide as he jumped to his feet.

"Carter!" He yelled, throat aching with disuse, causing him to retch at the strain.

"Agent Barton," came a female voice from the ceiling. Clint looked around in confusion, panting heavily. "Director Fury will be with you momentarily, please remain in the med-bay." Agent Hill, Clint realised, using an intercom.

"Where's Carter?" He demanded, knowing Maria could hear him. There was no reply, but Clint's instincts knew it was due to hesitation. "Hill, where is she?"

"She isn't here," Fury spoke up from the door way, Clint's head snapping round to face him.

"Where is she?" He asked, forcing a calmer tone into his voice. He swallowed as Fury hesitated the same as Hill.

"Brazil," he then chose to say. Clint frowned.

"Brazil? She's gone home?" Fury couldn't help the scornful chuckle that escaped.

"You could say that," he sighed, approaching Clint slowly. "N-GES have her, but-" he held a hand up to silence Clint. "-we have a team currently attempting a rescue."

"Melody-" Clint tried to say, but he was stopped again.

"We know," Fury informed him. "Agent Romanoff told us of the fight on the rooftop."

"Natasha? She's all right?" Clint could remember her sprawled out form, Carter's reluctance to fight. "What…what happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Fury stated. "Agent Romanoff was unable to explain the events after falling unconscious, for obvious reasons. She and yourself arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. Central in the quinjet alone, both in a bad way. We've deducted that Agent Thomas sent you both away and remained behind by choice."

"Her mother," Clint said, closing his eyes as he thought back. "She wasn't herself, she kept saying that her death was Carter's fault. She…she killed me."

"Doctor Banner surmised as much," Fury agreed, Clint face paling with the realisation. "He believes Agent Thomas used her powers as a defibrillator, reviving you with a series of shocks."

"God, Carter," Clint sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, head dropping into his hands. "What were you thinking?"

"You know her best, Barton," Fury reasoned. "What _was _she thinking?"

"I don't…" Clint mumbled, head pounding as he tried to think. "She…she would want to know what happened. She saw her mother die, but now she's alive…she'd have to know the truth." Fury nodded with a deep sigh.

"I'll leave you to rest," he then said. "Don't worry about Carter, we'll get her back." Clint could only nod, his eyes swimming in tears he tried to hide.

"Wait," he said, stopping Fury as he reached the door. "Natasha mentioned a spy?"

"It was Agent Sitwell," Fury explained curtly. "N-GES had implanted him with a computer chip, controlling his actions. He killed a lot of agents, but he's safe now."

"She never told me," Clint added, his mind only coming to one conclusion. "She thought it might have been me." His voice couldn't hide the hurt he felt, no matter how he tried.

"And I thought it might have been Doctor Banner, Mr Stark, or even Agent Thomas herself," Fury offered nonchalantly. "We had no way of telling who it could've been, Barton, don't take it personally."

"Easier said than done," Clint sighed, lifting his legs onto the bed and stretching out. "Carter…she's not as tough as she pretends to be, boss."

"No one is." And with that, Fury left Clint to be alone with his thoughts. His body ached and his head pounded, but he couldn't close his eyes without seeing her face.

"Carter," he mumbled to himself. "Don't you dare get hurt."

* * *

"Here Sparky, Sparky, Sparky!" Tony called, easily drawing Carter's fire. Even when she was herself, she hated that nickname. With a snarl, she turned her attention to Iron Man, lasers following him as he glided around the warehouse.

The Hulk's fist slammed into her side, sending her careening against a nearby wall, leaving a crude dent in the surface.

"Nice one," Tony complemented, landing beside the beast as he panted heavily, watching as Carter struggled back to her feet.

"Stark!" Steve shouted over. "Stop enjoying this!" Tony rolled his eyes behind his mask, taking to the air again as Carter sent more blasts his way. They collided with the Hulk's enormous chest, sizzling upon impact, causing the giant to roar in pain.

"Walk it off, big guy," Tony called over, flying in close to Carter, firing his repulsar ray at her. Carter only just managed to dodge it, pulling out her daggers as Natasha suddenly closed in, guns blazing. Carter weaved out of the way of the bullets, slashing her daggers through the air at the agent.

Steve's shield smashed into her back, knocking the wind out of her as she fell to the ground, gasping, rolling quickly out of the way as the Hulk brought his fist down, leaving a crater in the cement where she had just been.

"Dammit," she hissed laying face down, still struggling to breathe.

"Hold her!" Steve's voice rang out, and Carter felt a large hand pressing into her back, pinning her down.

"JARVIS says the signal that's blocking him from reading her vitals is coming from her left temple," Tony informed them all, landing next to the Hulk, who was still holding Carter against the ground as she wriggled, trying to escape his clutches.

"Sitwell's chip was in the same location," Natasha stated, breathing heavily. Tony reached down, picking up one of the daggers that had fallen to the ground with Carter.

"You know what you're doing?" Steve asked warily as Tony examined the dagger.

"Eh, how hard can it be?" He replied casually, Natasha rolling her eyes.

"Cut too deep and you'll kill her," she said. "That's how hard it can be."

"Party pooper," Tony chuckled. "Keep her still, big guy," he instructed the Hulk.

Carter hissed in pain as the dagger slit her skin open, fighting in vain against the monster that had her pinned down. Steve's blow had completely winded her, and she was unable to gather enough energy to stun an enemy the size of the Hulk. Blood trickled into her eyes as the slice in her skin got wider, Tony cutting a flap open to access the side of her skull.

"There's the bad boy," he muttered to himself, seeing the small chip just like Sitwell's connected to her skull. He manoeuvred the blade of the dagger underneath it, and pried it away. It fell to the floor with a quiet clatter, and Tony closed the flap of skin back over. Natasha held out a strip of fabric to him, having torn it from what remained of the Hulk's pants, and Tony carefully wound it round Carter's head, holding the wound closed until they could get it stitched up.

"Let her go," Steve told the Hulk quietly. He obeyed without question, and Steve turned Carter over, wiping the blood from her eyes. "She's out cold."

"At least we got her," Natasha sighed, kneeling down next to her. "And in one piece."

"JARVIS is getting a reading on her now," Tony informed them all. "Her vitals are normal."

"Is there anyone else in the building?" Steve asked, lifting Carter into his arms and standing upright.

"Not that he can detect," Tony replied. "But there's a chopper in the air nearby, flying away from here. Whoever was left must've escaped during the fight." Steve sighed, shaking his head.

"It's not important now," he decided. "We need to get Carter back to headquarters, we'll find Melody another time."

"And the bastard behind it all," Natasha added coldly. Steve nodded.

"Don't worry," he said, holding Carter securely in his arms. "He'll get what's coming to him."

* * *

**I changed the poll to multiple selections, since I was getting a few messages from conflicted readers, haha! Please go and vote!**

**Also, did anyone notice the throw back to Chapter Sixteen? Poor Clint.**

**Jay X**


	35. Chapter Thirty Four Catching Up

**I honestly apologise for the lack of updates recently, and for the news I'm about to share. I'll be finishing As If I Was Human soon, but I'm afraid I won't be starting any of the new stories I had planned, instead I'll be going on hiatus for a while. When I started writing it was to help find myself, and it has done just that. Now I'm ready for the next chapter of my life, and paving out a career for myself is where I plan to focus my attentions. **

**Thank you to every single one of you that has read and reviewed, and it's for you that I dedicate this chapter to.**

**For those interested, the results of the poll are as follows; Tony Stark - 35%, Steve Rogers - 26%, Bruce Banner -21%, Loki Odinson -17%.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Four - Catching Up

_Not again_, Carter thought, the incessant bleeping of the heart monitor giving her a headache. _What the hell happened this time?_ Her eyes refused to open, her arms refused to rise from her sides. Her entire body betrayed her. Even the groan she tried to voice went unspoken.

"Carter?" Clint. He sounded so far away, yet Carter could feel his fingers curling around her own, squeezing tight in an attempt to rouse her. "Carter, can you hear me?"

"Y-yes," she breathed, barely audible but Clint heard. He sighed loudly in relief, and Carter felt the back of his hand brushing against her cheek softly. Once again, she struggled to open her eyes, managing to take in Clint's weary face before they fell closed again.

"Carter?" His voice faded, as did the continual blaring of the heart monitor, leaving Carter trapped in a silent void.

_Mom,_ her subconscious spoke, visions beginning to swirl in front of her closed lids. There was Melody Thomas, arms wrapped around her daughter. The room was so dark, Carter could barely see, but she stepped closer to the image before her. Her counterpart was shaking, Melody whispering soothing words in her ears, stroking her hair like she did all those years ago.

"It's not you," the other Carter was insisting between sobs, eyes rimmed in red. "Not really."

"It's me this time," Melody replied quietly, sincerely, and both Carters knew she spoke the truth.

_Bastard,_ Carter thought venomously, remembering. _He gave her back, just to take her away again._

The man in question laughed, Carter whirling to face him as he took in the sight of mother and daughter locked in embrace.

"I thought it was time you got to see each other again," he spoke up, a sneer etched on his face. "You see this-" A small device was held aloft for both Carters to see. "-it's how I keep her in line…how I keep you both in line."

Carter turned away, gaze returning to her past self still entangled in her mother's arms. _He was controlling her,_ she remembered. _But he let her go…just to show me he could. He wanted to see my face when I realised I had lost her._

Sure enough, it came a moment later. One minute Melody was whispering in her ear, the next she had hurled her across the room, eyes cold and unblinking.

_Mom. _There was nothing she could do as her previous form lay crumpled on the ground, her back from the dead mother having thrown her there. Melody returned to the man's side, patiently awaiting her next orders.

"My child," he said, Carter struggling to pick herself up. "Don't fret, you'll join her soon."

_I had joined her already,_ Carter thought bitterly. _I just didn't know it yet._ She remembered very little after the chip in her head had been activated, just voices constantly crying for her.

"Carter!"

"Carter?"

"Carter, please!"

"Carter, don't do this!"

"Carter, it's us!"

"Carter, it's me! Please!"

_Wake up._

_I can't,_ she thought, shaking her head as the scene in front of her slowly dissolved and faded into darkness.

_Wake up._

_I can't, dammit!_

"Wake up."

It was getting closer now.

"Wake up."

It sounded like…

"Come on, kid, I know you can hear me."

_Tony? Where's Clint?_

"See, I saw that, you moved! You're not fooling anyone, Sparky."

"Don't…" she mumbled, finding her voice at last. "Don't call me that." A hearty chuckle greeted her, and finally her eyes obeyed her demands to open. Tony Stark stood over her, grinning as she looked up at him, eyes bleary.

"Rise and shine, buttercup," he quipped, thumb pressing down on a button next to her bed which would alert Bruce. "We've got some catching up to do."

* * *

"My mother didn't die," Carter said slowly, the briefing room full to the brim with her team mates and superiors. "All those years ago, I saw her get shot, but she didn't die. The thing with nanotechnology, it's so small, so much can go overlooked." She paused, taking a deep breath, smiling at Clint when he squeezed her hand under the table. "I wasn't the only one affected by the experiments on my dad. Mom…she had unknowingly ingested bits and pieces of the nanotech throughout their relationship, and it changed her slowly…so slowly it never endangered her life, like it did my father. She was able to recover from a mortal wound…despite being left for dead. But…" Carter trailed off, sighing sadly.

"Take your time," Steve assured her from his position opposite her. "This can't be easy."

"You can say that again," she agreed, shaking her head. "Mom survived," she then repeated. "But her recovery was incredibly slow, the nanotechnology rebuilding her cell by cell as it had been programmed to do. No one knew she had survived, and if I hadn't escaped…N-GES probably never would have found her."

"Carter…" Clint whispered, squeezing her hand again. "You cannot blame yourself."

"Clint's right," Natasha spoke up. "It wasn't your fault."

"The house we lived in," Carter continued, voice heavy with grief. "It was the first place N-GES looked for me, and Mom was still there…dying, but repairing. They took her, and ever since…they've been doing the same sick shit they did to me and father; experimenting on her, making her stronger…hurting her."

"They have her under control, you said?" Fury clarified, his one good eye watching the young agent carefully. She was clearly stricken with grief and guilt, but she seemed to be holding up well despite it all. Carter nodded, indicating to the two computer chips laid on the table they all sat round, one taken from Agent Sitwell, the other taken from Carter herself.

"It's the same as these," she said. "Remotely activated, they make you do whatever _he_ tells you."

"He?" Fury questioned, raising an eyebrow. "The mastermind behind it all."

"Yeah," Carter nodded, chewing her lower lip as memories of him invaded her mind. "Harmon Monroe, he's a mad scientist funded by millionaires desperate for better security to keep their secrets safe. N-GES started as a private security firm, but evolved as more backers became interested. They've slowly fallen in obscurity, most of their funding dried up some time ago. What remained of the staff was harvested for more soldiers; now only Monroe himself is left, heading the whole thing from beginning to end."

"Then it's him we have to deal with," Steve spoke up resolutely. Carter nodded, the rest of the team making noises of agreement.

"Well then," Bruce said, clapping his hands together briskly. "What's next for the Avengers?"

"Dinner, I hope," Carter joked, her hollow stomach echoing. Clint chuckled at her.

"Plans can wait," he said, mostly addressing Fury. "My girl's hungry." Fury nodded, allowing the team to be excused.

"I want everyone back here tomorrow at 09:00 hours-"

"Lie in, please?" Carter pleaded, pressing her hands together in prayer. "I'm just outta hospital, remember?" Fury sighed heavily, but couldn't hide a small smile.

"Fine, 11:00 hours, then," he amended. "Stark, Banner, continue your work on these chips, I wanna know everything there is to know about them, and then some."

"Sure thing, boss," Tony replied on behalf of both of them. Bruce merely nodded with a smile.

"Agent Thomas," Fury then said, turning to Carter, smile more predominant. "Welcome back."

"Glad to be back, sir."

* * *

"You have no idea how much I missed you," Clint whispered into Carter's ear as they lay curled together, simply holding each other. Despite the sweetness of Clint's words, Carter could hear the worry and sadness behind them. She lifted her head from it's pillow on Clint's chest and met his eyes.

"You died," she suddenly remembered, her heart threatening to stop right there and then.

"Carter-"

"Don't 'Carter' me," she interrupted. "You died, I saw her kill you, and it was all because of me!" She took his face in her hands, thumbs brushing across the stubble on his unshaven cheeks. "Clint," she gasped, tears spilling down her face. "Clint, I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault," Clint tried to convince her, moving into a seated position as she pulled away from him, rising from their bed.

"I'm so…fed up of hearing that," she sniffed, unable to stop the tears from falling, her back to Clint. "She only attacked you because of me; how is that not my fault, Clint?"

"You had no idea what she was going to do," Clint insisted, stepping behind Carter and crushing her to him, her back pressed tight against his chest. "None of us did. You are not to blame for anything that happened."

"But, I-"

"But, nothing," he continued, turning her in his arms to look her in the eye. "Carter, I love you, more than anything, but you can't keep blaming yourself for everything that happens. This Monroe guy, he's the one to blame, the one to hate. And we're gonna kick his ass and make him pay for what he's done."

"What if we can't?" Carter whispered fearfully. "What if there's no way to make things right?"

"There's always a way," Clint promised, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as his hands rubbed her back comfortingly. "We'll get this guy, Carter. I swear we will."

"I hope you're right," Carter replied, her mother's face appearing in her mind. "I want him to pay."

_I want him to suffer…_


	36. Chapter Thirty Five Blinding Rage

**Sorry for the wait between chapters, but this one is longer than normal to make up for it. I had planned to just dive into the action and the lead-up to the final showdown, but this is one of those chapters that ended up writing itself, so I think of it as something of an extra chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Five - Blinding Rage

The sweat poured down Carter's face as she furiously pummelled the punch bag suspended in front of her. The past three weeks had been spent in a similar fashion; Carter would untangle herself from Clint before he awoke, burying herself in ancient files and information about N-GES until her head felt like it would burst. She'd then expel her frustrations on the gym equipment, waiting for the night to fall so she could hide in her dreams, asleep before Clint could even ask how she was.

Her team mates worried for her, suspecting the source of her misery to be Harmon Monroe, the mastermind behind N-GES, and cause of all her suffering. They were wrong.

Carter was angry at herself. Right now, she hated herself. Despite her natural strength, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s training, and all the preparation she had undergone, Monroe had still gotten the best of her. He had made her fight her mother, made her hate her mother, and then he allowed the fog to clear for just a moment, Carter and Melody reunited, then simply tore them apart.

Worst of all, he had made her hurt her friends.

She couldn't remember much of it, little snatches of imagery would come back to her every now and then. She could hear the pleading voices, imploring her not to fight them. She could feel the blade at her temple, the blood stinging her eyes. But she couldn't see anything but the hazy red mist blocking her path.

They had forgiven her, refusing to hold it against her. Even Clint had forgiven her, believing her to be blame free for his death, but Carter didn't feel the same. The one person she loved more than anything had been killed before her eyes, because she loved him. He was safe now, alive and well, and happy to have his girlfriend back, but Carter hadn't forgotten the weight of his lifeless body, the cold pallor of his lips as death took him away. She never would.

If she had been stronger, none of it would have happened. She would have been able to face her mother fearlessly, she would have protected Clint, and most of all, she wouldn't have succumbed to Monroe and his stupid control chip!

With a loud grunt and one last punch, Carter dropped to her knees, panting heavily as the punch bag split, sand spilling onto the ground.

"Dammit," she hissed, head bowed as she studied the friction burns on her knuckles. They'd heal soon enough, but it meant she was done for tonight. In her anger, worse today than ever before, she had neglected to bandage her hands, and was now paying the price.

"Tired?" Carter shook her head, not bothering to look up as Director Fury approached her.

"No, sir," she muttered, swinging her legs out from under her, sitting Indian style on the cold floor.

"It's time we had a talk, Agent Thomas," Fury stated, coming to a halt in front of her. Carter shrugged, finally deigning to look up at him.

"I'm not one for an agony aunt, boss," she replied coolly, clambering to her feet to turn her back on Fury, heading to the table were a row of bottles stood. "If you want to talk, it better be business." Fury chuckled quietly. Over the past few weeks he had noticed Carter's usual chirpy demeanour turn sour, leaving her snappy and easily riled. Agent Barton had been pestering him to intervene, only now did he find the time to.

"It is business, as a matter of fact," Fury spoke, his expression sobering. Carter rolled her eyes, popping the cap from a bottle of water, downing half the contents in one.

"Forgive me if I don't quite believe you," she drawled, turning back to face the Director. "I'm not an idiot, Fury, I know everyone's talking about me."

"Only because you're refusing to talk to anyone at all," Fury informed her briskly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Even Agent Barton."

"Clint and I are none of your business," Carter snapped, slamming both hands down on the table in a temper.

"On the contrary, Agent Thomas," Fury rebutted, unmoved by Carter's anger. "You both work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and are currently in the midst of a very dangerous situation. When we locate Melody and Monroe we want you able to fight rationally, and more importantly, as part of a team. In your current mood, I don't see that happening."

"You don't see much with only one eye," Carter spat back. Fury raised an eyebrow. It was a low blow, they both knew it, but Carter was far too enraged to apologise.

"I see all I need to, Agent Thomas," Fury replied softly. "And I see your anger makes you unreliable and biased in this matter. Until you sort out your issues, your status as 'Agent' is hereby revoked-"

"What?!"

"-and you will be off the team bringing in Monroe," Fury finished, easily ignoring Carter's outburst.

"You can't do this!" Carter yelled, slamming her hands on the tabletop once more. The sheer force caused the table to snap in half, it's contents tumbling to the floor in a rush. Carter let out an angry scream, kicking the remnants of the table away from her. Fury merely watched, unamused. "This is my life you're talking about, and you're saying I'm not to be a part of it!"

"Monroe is a serious threat," Fury explained emotionlessly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot risk your instability with dealing with this matter. Sort yourself out, Carter, then we'll talk."

Carter was left dumbfounded, eyes stinging with angry tears as Fury walked away. Breathing heavily, eyes closed, she tried to will them away, but it only made it worse, causing them to spill out over her cheeks. She shook her head blindly, fists clenching as she desperately attempted to reel in her emotions.

"This can't be happening," she whispered to herself, shaking from pure unfiltered rage. Fury's words swam round and round her head, until it was more than she could take. "NO!" She screamed.

The fury inside her suddenly reached boiling point, and with an unearthly shriek, Carter's hands flew out in front of her. Blinding light burst from her fists, striking the punch bag. Carter's eyes snapped shut, sand flying in all directions as the punch bag exploded, sending debris everywhere.

"Fuck," she breathed, doubling over as the last grain fell, panting heavily again. "What the hell was that?!"

She had no idea. The energy had poured out from her core, ruthlessly destroying it's target. She had no control of it, it happened almost against her will, no intention of her own behind it.

But…now that it had happened…Carter felt lighter somehow. As if all the hate and anger burning inside her had been expelled. For the first time in weeks, her lungs could hold a full breath, and she felt the ghost of a smile creeping across her face.

"Heh," she chuckled, shaking her head, straightening back up. "That's much better."

* * *

"Hey."

Bruce looked up in surprise, Carter entering the lab. She was covered in sweat and grime, her sodden clothes sticking to her, but she was smiling.

"Hey," he replied, lowering his glasses from his face, smiling in return. "It's good to see you looking happy again." Carter grinned.

"Thanks," she said, walking over to his work place and taking a seat. "It's a recent development. I wanted to ask you something…kinda personal."

"Oh?" Bruce frowned, praying he wasn't about to be required to answer some embarrassing questions. "What's wrong?"

"You know when you…um, 'hulk out'," Carter began hesitantly, making quotation marks with her fingers. "The anger and stuff…does it vanish after?" Bruce's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Carter tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to frame her words.

"Like…all the anger that builds up, that turns you into the Hulk," she said. "Once you revert back to Bruce, is it still there? Do you still feel angry, or have you, kind of, gotten it all out?"

"Ah," Bruce nodded, understanding her question. "Well, sort of, I guess," he explained carefully. "I mean, my temper is always simmering under the surface, but if something causes it to spike, and I…change, my rage has usually abated by the time I go back to normal." Bruce paused, Carter pursing her lips in thought. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The past few weeks I've been getting more and more frustrated and pissed off…then Fury came to see me today and revoked my Agent status-

"He what?!" Bruce interrupted, shouting. Carter simply shook her head.

"I'm gonna go talk to him in a minute," she assured Bruce. "But, once he left, the anger just burst to the surface and I…I kind of destroyed a punch bag…like blew it up. This blast of energy just came surging out of my hands and incinerated it! I don't even know how I did it! But afterwards, straight away, I just felt calmer…as if all the rage bubbling inside me got siphoned away with the blast."

"And you thought of me," Bruce stated more than asked, smiling gently. "I think I understand. The static electricity in your blood is always there, Tony's suit just harnesses it and draws it to the surface, but due to your anger and frustrations the static must have been charging itself up. The more powerful it got, the angrier you became, until you let your temper out, discharging the electricity at the same time."

"Uh huh," Carter mused, tapping her chin in thought. "I think I get it…a bit like a vicious cycle; I got angry, it charged up, it charged up and made me angry."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, slipping his glasses back onto his face. "I actually wrote a theory on emotions triggering the static in your blood in my initial report for Fury…chances are he hoped to enrage you on purpose and cause the discharge."

"Man," Carter swore, snapping her fingers. "He's always one step ahead of me, isn't he?"

"It's what makes him so good at what he does," Bruce concurred with a shrug. "You gonna go see him now?" He asked, watching as Carter rose to her feet.

"Yeah," she murmured, frowning. "May as well see if I can get my job back."

"Good luck," Bruce laughed. Carter jokingly threw him a scowl, flipping him off with both hands as she exited the lab.

* * *

A few hours later, a freshly showered and rehired Agent Thomas made her way down to the shooting range, hoping to find Clint. Now that she was no longer blinded by her ire, Carter planned to apologise to her boyfriend, guilt ridden by her recent avoidance of him.

The gun range was silent, save for the soft whoosh of an arrow flying through the air, and the following thud of it hitting it's target. Clint stood alone, loosing arrow after arrow, skewering every target with perfect precision.

"You're pretty good at that," Carter said quietly, knowing he'd hear her. Clint paused, lowering his bow as he turned to face her.

"You're talking to me now, then?" He said, his tone colder than Carter was used to. She knew she deserved it though.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her eyes full of sadness. "I've been shutting you out, and I shouldn't have. I've not been dealing with the situation very well."

"What situation?" Clint asked, returning to his target practice. Carter stepped closer, raising her voice over the sound of his shooting.

"Monroe and my mother got away," she said, fists clenching at her side. "And there's no telling where they could be. I might never see her again. It just…infuriated me. I got so dragged down in all my emotions that I couldn't even acknowledge what they were. So I pushed you away. I really am sorry, Clint."

"I love you, Carter," Clint stated, his voice still distant. "I would die for you. I **did **die for you. Don't you think I would want to help you deal with everything you're going through?"

"I didn't want you to," Carter replied sadly, shaking her head. "You're right, you did die for me. How am I supposed to live with that?! I don't want it to ever happen again; I might not be able to save you next time!"

"That doesn't matter-"

"It does to me!" Carter shouted, tears prickling her eyes. "I don't want you to die for me, Clint! I want you to be safe!"

"And I want you to be safe," Clint said, lowering his bow again. He turned to Carter, his eyes firm. "But pushing me away won't keep either of us safe, Carter. We'll protect each other, together."

"Together," Carter agreed, nodding her head as she took a deep breath. "I realise that now. I can't change what happened, but when we find Monroe, we face him together." She smiled at Clint. "I promise."


	37. Chapter Thirty Six Located

**All the apologies in the world are no excuse for the massive delay in updates, but I'm still so sorry to have left you all hanging for so long, and a huge thank you to anyone still following. I have had an absolutely awful few months, and my writing has suffered because of it, but I **_**will **_**finish this story. We're truly close to the end, so I'm gonna try super hard and barrel through it all and finally give Carter and Clint the ending they deserve.**

**Since it's been so long, I'm putting in a little "Previously on As If I Was Human" plus some good old fashioned smut, but feel free to skip it if you like. Once again thank you for your patience and support.**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Six - Located

Carter's eyes slowly opened as her alarm clock began to chime gently. Dragging one of her arms from it's comfortable home against Clint's chest, she reached over her boyfriend to shut the damn thing off. Clint let out a soft groan, but soon fell back into slumber as Carter snuggled back against him. She didn't sleep though. Now that she was awake her mind began to sift through the past few days, and she collected her thoughts as she softly drew patterns on her lover's bare chest.

_Who'd have thought I'd end up with a fairly decent guy_, she mused with a smile. _A complete fuck up like me, a genetic freak with the power of electricity. _A light chuckle escaped her lips and she looked over Clint's peaceful face with sleepy eyes. _So much has happened, but he's still here with me. My remote controlled mother killed him, killed him just to hurt me, but he didn't care. He only cared about me. Even when that bastard, Harmon Monroe, took me, turned me against them, he welcomed me back with open arms. I shut myself off from the entire team, avoided them all like the plague, got demoted from field agent and he still accepted me, still loved me. And now…with this new battle on the horizon…his trust in me never falters…How the hell did I get so lucky?_

Still smiling, Carter's hands trailed lower, slipping under the blankets to caress the hard muscles of Clint's lower abdomen, causing the sleeping man to jerk slightly.

"Carter…" he mumbled, still fast asleep. Carter could only grin, her fingers dancing further south still, only stopping when they reached a coarse tangle of hair. Her fingers began to gently trail through the hair, massaging Clint's crotch whilst pressing her body closer to his.

Soon enough his manhood started to stiffen, Carter focusing so intently on her teasing that she nearly jumped out of her skin when Clint's hand suddenly fisted in her hair, snapping her head back so he could crash his lips to hers. She hadn't even notice him waken, but was in no position to argue. Clint's sharp movements had her flat on her back with him hovering above her before she realised it, his lips continuing their assault against hers.

"Good morning," she gasped when Clint pulled away to remove the blankets that had gotten tangled up between them.

"Good morning to you too," he replied lowly, his eyes dark with lust as his lips descended to her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing Carter's back to arch in pleasure. "To what do I owe this wonderful wake up call?"

"I was just thinking about how amazing you are," Carter moaned out between hungry mewls, her hands continuing their previous task of fondling Clint's now hardened cock. With a sexy growl, Clint ground his hips into her hands, silently begging for more.

"I'm not the amazing one here," he insisted, his hands gripping tighter into Carter's hair as his passion took over him. "Don't you dare stop."

Clint returned his lips to her neck, biting and sucking as Carter's caresses turned to full strokes, her hands working a delicate magic on her lover. Her own arousal was clouding her vision, and she found herself teasing her slit with one hand as the other pumped Clint the same way he had showed her to do weeks earlier. Noticing two hands becoming one, Clint reached down, pulling Carter's legs apart and moving in between them. Her hands fell away as Clint firmly took over, palming himself while his tongue lapped eagerly at her clit.

"Mmm, Clint," Carter sighed appreciatively, her fingers trailing through his hair as she held him where she wanted him. Her back arched again, and she gasped and moaned, wordlessly demanding more and more.

Clint waited until she was close to orgasm before sliding inside her, sitting upright and pulling her with him, forcing her to ride him as he buried his head between her breasts, kissing and sucking the tender flesh. Carter rose up and down with increasing vigour, Clint's hands cupping her ass, squeezing harshly as she continued to move upon him. She soon came, her head tilting back as she moaned Clint's name, and she felt him release inside her, his own voice murmuring her name against her heaving breasts.

As they both rode out the last waves of climax, Carter pulled Clint into a lazy kiss, their tongues meeting each other as Clint slowly lay Carter back down, his hips still gently pushing against her.

"You sure know how to wake a man up," he spoke, his voice low and hoarse.

"I didn't actually mean to," Carter replied with a grin. "Just wanted to see what kind of trouble I could get into while you slept."

"The best kind." Carter laughed at Clint's words, and the two met in a series of sloppy kisses, only to be interrupted by Carter's cell phone ringing loudly. "Dammit," Clint whined, pulling away to grab the offending gadget.

"Give it," Carter commanded, snatching the phone from Clint's hands. "It's Tony," she informed him, pressing the phone to her ear. "Tony, what's up?"

"_Big, awesome things. Get your ass to the lab, pronto."_ The line went dead, and Carter rolled her eyes, used to Tony's behaviour, but still annoyed at the lack of information he gave.

"I need to get to the lab," she said to Clint, who was still laying on top of her. "Can you let me up?"

"I can," he answered with a smirk. "But I don't want to." Carter protested weakly against Clint's kisses, but couldn't bring herself to disengage until her cell phone rang again, still in her hand.

"Yeah?" She asked, bringing it back to her ear.

"_Seriously, Sparky, this is important, stop porking your feathery girlfriend and get down here."_

"What is it-" Tony hung up on her again, and with a heavy heart Carter pushed Clint away. "It's important, babe," she said as his eyes looked at her questioningly.

"Guess I'll come with you then," he decided, following her out of bed and over to the wardrobe.

It took longer than usual, Clint's 'help' more of a hindrance, but soon the two were dressed and heading down to the lab Bruce and Tony called home.

"Everything okay?" Carter asked, the two genius's leaning over a computer monitor.

"Finally," Tony mock cheered. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost between the bed sheets."

"Tony," Bruce scolded him with an elbow to the ribs. Tony just rolled his eyes. "We've had a bit of a breakthrough," Bruce then said, addressing Carter and Clint as they approached.

"With the control chip?" Carter asked, eyeing up the small pieces that once made up the gizmo that had forced her to attack her friends.

"We've been attempting to triangulate the signal and trace it back," Tony clarified, clapping his hands together. "And we've done it. We know where Monroe's hiding."

* * *

The team was gathered in the briefing room little over an hour later, Director Fury standing at the head of the table, accompanied as always by Agents Hill and Coulson. Carter fidgeted nervously in her seat as Fury began to speak, his words going in one ear and out the other. She couldn't concentrate, she could barely even think. They knew where Monroe was. She'd get her revenge. She'd save her mother too. If Tony was able to remove the chip from Carter's brain, surely he could free Melody as well.

After all these years, it could finally be over.

Fury was pointing to a map, Tony and Bruce took turns at speaking, following by Steve's opinion on whatever they had said. Clint and Natasha spoke too, but Carter still wasn't paying attention. Whatever the plan of action was, Carter wasn't listening. They could be talking about purple elephants for all she cared.

_They knew where Monroe was._

It took all of Carter's will power not to simply steal a quinjet and go after him herself. The moment Tony revealed the location she saw the light at the end of the tunnel. All the torture and pain would be worth it. She would kill this man, and she would enjoy it. She would make his suffer the way he had made her family suffer. She didn't just want him dead, she wanted him to pay, to beg for clemency only to be denied. And she knew it wasn't right, she knew it made her just as bad as him, but she was beyond caring.

So fuck Fury's plan, Carter had one of her own. Let the Avengers take her to Monroe, let them fight with her, let them help her…but most importantly, they had to let her kill Monroe with her own two hands. She wouldn't rest until he was burning in hell and all his research destroyed.

Carter had awoken that morning feeling nothing but love and affection, but tonight she'd lay down with a heart full of rage and hate. Harmon Monroe had turned her into a monster, and it was time he understood the consequences.

* * *

The quinjet seemed abnormally full as it took to the air, Natasha in the pilot's seat, a regular S.H.I.E.L.D. agent navigating along side her. No member of the team was to be left behind, Carter's personal vendetta important to them all now. Steve and Tony stood behind Natasha, chatting quietly, both suited up and ready for a fight. Even Bruce was along for the ride, though somewhat dressed down for the situation. It had seemed unnecessary for him to be assigned a specialised combat uniform; his Hulk form would tear through it anyway. He sat alone, lips forming silent words as he read through Monroe's file again, committing the information to memory.

Carter's uniform had been upgraded, thanks to Tony. The sleek dark material was now more flexible, yet more durable than before, and the electro plates had been reshaped to Carter's body, absorbing and dispelling electricity on a higher level. Tony had even designed brand new daggers, the handles perfectly grafted to fit Carter's palms. There was no telling what would be waiting for them at Monroe's secret base, but Carter was well equipped and well prepared. Clint sat opposite her, face set in a stoical mask as he looked her over.

After everything they had been through, all the ups and downs, Clint could read Carter like a book, and her anger was painfully clear to him. Even if Melody Thomas, Carter's mother, could be saved, they would have to fight her first, most likely being forced to injure her in the process of removing N-GES's control chip from her brain. Clint knew what it was like to do battle with your own blood, his history with his brother was a testament to that, and he hated knowing Carter would be going through the same pain.

Clint was not a romantic man, it just wasn't his style, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for Carter. This woman that had been thrust into his life so suddenly meant the world to him, and Harmon Monroe, the bastard that hurt her, had an arrow with his name on it. In fact, Clint had a special poison tinted one just to make him suffer.

Clint was not a romantic man; he was an assassin. He wouldn't just die for the woman he loved, he'd kill for her too.

As Carter silently chewed on her lower lip, teeth ripping away slivers of the thin skin, Clint leaned forward, reaching out to place his hands on her knees.

"Hey," he whispered, squeezing legs gently as Carter met his eyes. "Only one of us is gonna kill that fucker, but we're both gonna damn try."

"I know," Carter replied, resting her hands on top of his, gripping them tight. "And I know Fury would rather he was taken alive, but I won't let that happen, Clint. No matter how bad things get, Monroe is gonna die."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Save the smoochy-smoochy crap!" Tony interrupted the two, causing them to break apart as he passed between them, plonking himself down next to Clint, propping one leg over the other. "We're on a mission here, love birds."

"We're on one of our own, too," Carter murmured lowly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So I hear," Tony chuckled. "Ignoring the boss's orders and snuffing Monroe out?"

"Tony-"

"I like it," he continued, speaking over Carter, surprising both her and Clint. "Fury knows jack shit about you, Sparky, but I know you. You want revenge? I'm here to help."

"Oh, really?" Clint questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, man," Tony said, raising his hands in a conceding gesture. "If some guy kidnapped Pepper, I'd rip his throat out and crush his balls. If some guy kidnapped Pepper, tortured her and screwed a mind control chip into her skull…well, I don't know what I'd do. Something incredibly violent and painful. But I definitely wouldn't simply subdue him and bring him in for questioning. I don't give a damn if he had a cure for cancer, I'd kill him and I wouldn't be nice about it."

"Wow," Carter said, smirking at Clint. "How sentimental of you."

"Fury's a soldier, he doesn't understand personal vendettas like this," Tony shrugged easily. "I do. When someone takes arms against your family, you take 'em out. 'nuff said."

"Thanks, Tony," Carter said softly, giving the Iron Man a genuine smile. "You always seem to have my back, you know that?"

"Don't tell anyone, kid," Tony drawled in reply. "I've got a reputation to protect."

_This is really happening_, Carter thought excitedly to herself as they fell into an easy silence. _They're gonna help me kill him, after all these years he's gonna die and there's nothing he can do about it. Bring it on, all the soldiers and guns, I don't care, because Harmon Monroe is going to die today._


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven Open The Door

**I am the worst author in the world, six months between updates. I suck. But I really really really really really really WILL FINISH THIS STORY! I will, I will, I will! I'm so sorry for the wait, you probably don't even remembered what happened last time, so here's a little summation.**

**Tony and Bruce have managed to track down Carter's arch enemy, Harmon Monroe, and the Avengers are on their way to his location. Clint and Carter both plan to defy Fury's orders to bring him back alive, and Tony is supporting their decision. Carter hopes to save her mother, Melody, from Monroe's control, and avenge her father's death.**

**All in all, shit's about to hit the fan. It's a bit short, but we're on the final climax with only a few chapters left. Enjoy!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Seven - Open the Door

"Hawkeye, what do your elf eyes see?" Tony's voice came through Clint's earpiece.

"Really, another Legolas joke?" Clint sighed, looking over the compound from his high vantage point in the mountains surrounding Monroe's warehouse hideout.

"Come on, it's a compliment," Tony insisted, stepping up next to him, his computerised vision zooming in on the main entrance.

"Four guards at the door," Clint replied, answering his previous question. "A dozen more patrolling ten feet apart."

"Got enough arrows?"

"Enough to shut you up."

"Boys," Natasha shushed them. "Less bickering, more recon." Holding a set of high-tech binoculars to her eyes, she glanced over the compound. "Steve and I can do down and take them out silently, without setting off any alarms," she then announced, lowering the binoculars. "Clint, you stay-"

"I'm going in with Carter," Clint cut her off firmly.

"You're a long range combatant," Natasha argued. "Your skill set's wasted in hand to hand combat."

"I don't care," he said, looking behind him where Carter stood, conversing with Steve and Bruce. "She's not going in without me." Natasha sighed, but nodded.

"Fine."

"What's the plan, then?" Bruce suddenly asked, walking over with Steve and Carter following.

"Sixteen guards to take care of," Tony reeled off. "Steve and Tash are on that, I'll blast open the doors-"

"No blasting," Steve interrupted, holding up a hand to silence Tony. "We want to keep this as low key as possible, we want to get in and tear the place apart before Monroe knows what hit him."

"That's boring, you're boring, Cap," Tony drawled. "But I guess I can just hack into their system, bypass the security protocols, reroute the power and….right, I'm in. Doors are open."

"That was quick," Natasha said, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"I know how to get a job done," Tony replied, smirking underneath his mask.

"Okay, the signal is coming from the electric tower," Bruce reminded everyone. "The control panel will need to be directly connected to the satellite broadcasting, so Monroe is most likely on the upper floor, meaning we'll encounter heavy resistance on the way up."

"Just the way I like it," Tony joked, turning to look at Carter, who was yet to say a word. "You with us, Sparky?"

"There's an emergency exit on the roof," she replied quietly, staring over at the warehouse. "You guys go through the main entrance, make as much nose as possible, I'll take the roof and get to Monroe and my mother first."

"You're not going in alone," Clint told her, grabbing her upper arm tightly. "You'll get yourself killed."

"Tony will come with me," Carter said, looking up at him. "I'll need a lift to the roof, not to mention his help freeing my mother from the control chip."

"Carter-"

"She killed you last time, Clint," Carter spoke over him. "I'm not letting that happen again. We'll kill Monroe together, but I have to do this without you. I refuse to risk losing you."

"Carter-"

"The longer we argue about this, the more time Monroe has to prepare," Steve spoke up, separating the two of them. "Carter and Stark will take the roof, the rest of us will deal with the grunts on the ground. Stay in radio contact."

"Come here," Clint muttered, grabbing Carter's hand an pulling her away from the group as they all agreed to Steve's plan and began their final preparations.

"Look, I know you-"

"Carter, I love you," Clint cut her off, taking her face in his hands. "Are you sure you want to do this without me?"

"I don't know what's going to happen up there," Carter replied, sighing heavily. "But I can't concentrate unless I know you're safe. Right now all I can see is her killing you, over and over, and no matter what, I can't let it happen again." There were tears in her eyes as she talked, the memory playing in her mind. "I love you, Clint, please understand this."

"…all right," Clint sighed, pulling Carter into his arms and holding her tightly. "I trust your judgement, just…please, no coma this time." Carter gave a small chuckle, coiling her arms around his neck.

"I'll see what I can do," she assured him, pecking him on the cheek. "Now, let's end this bastard."

"Tony," Clint called to the man of iron as they returned to the group. "If anything happens to her, I'll tear your teeth out with a pair of pliers."

"Again with the threats," Tony whined. "What is it with you people and threatening me? Is it my boyish good looks? My millions of dollars? My perfectly poised posterior? Not that you can see it in the suit. I'll take pictures later, I'll send you all pictures. Might get one framed, hang it in the Helicarrier bathroom-"

"Are you done?" Steve sighed. "Carter, you ready?"

"I'm ready, Captain," Carter nodded grimly, stepping close to Tony. "Come on, Iron Man, let's go save my mother."

"Hold on tight, Sparky," Tony instructed, Carter wrapping her arms around his neck, hooking her legs around his waist. She gave Clint one last wink, before Tony took to the air and the ground team was left in their dust.

* * *

"_We have multiple breaches on the ground level."_

"_Engaging hostile forces. Confirmed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."_

"_Strike team Alpha, come in."_

"_We've lost radio contact with Strike Teams Alpha, Charlie and Echo."_

"_Deploy Attack Formation Theta, keep them from reaching the upper levels."_

"_Shit! They've brought the Hulk, I repeat; they've brought the Hulk. We need…shit- we need reinforcements to the ground level!"_

"_It's tearing through our men- we have to fall back!"_

"_No, deploy the heavy canons! Take him down!"_

"_Breach on the roof access! All security footage from that sector is being blocked!"_

"_God dammit! Someone get those cameras back up!"_

"_Get Defence Teams to the upper floor! Don't let them get to the control room!"_

"_The Hulk has wiped out all Strike Teams. Heavy canons ineffective."_

"_Radio signal to all Defence Teams lost."_

"_Mobilise the Rear Guard! Put that monster down!"_

"_We've lost all contact, all footage is down. We're flying blind here!"_

"_Shit! Pull out, sound a full retreat! Get everyone still in contact out of there. Agent Thomas, do you read me?"_

"**I read you. Mr Monroe and I are well aware of the situation."**

"_I advise you to get him to the shuttle, our Strike and Defence Teams are lost."_

"**We will remain behind. You have leave to evacuate."**

"_Roger that, Agent Thomas."_

"**Godspeed, Agent."**

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Carter asked Tony, cocking her head to the side as she grinned. Before he could reply, they both heard it again. "It's hard to believe that our little Brucie can roar like that."

"It's always the quiet ones," Tony replied, smiling to himself as the Hulk continued to howl down below. "Come on, let's get to the control room."

"You know where you're going?" Carter questioned, following Tony down the narrow stairwell.

"I'm still tracking Melody's chip," he answered, tapping the side of his helmet with an iron clad finger. "We're close."

"I have to ask," Carter whispered, smirking as Tony's suit stomped ahead of her. "Doesn't it feel kinda redundant to be walking around in that thing?"

"Patience, young grasshopper," came the answer. "Too quick on the draw and you'll miss your target."

"Monroe knows we're coming," Carter pointed out, ducking under a low beam as they passed into an access shaft.

"He doesn't know which direction," Tony replied. "You wanna free your mom, we need at least a little subtlety." At the mention of her mother, Carter fell silent, and Tony sensed her mood, stopping and turning to her. "It'll be okay, Carter," he said firmly. "We're gonna do this."

"I know," Carter nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. "We'll do this."

"Nearly there," Tony added, setting off down the access shaft again, Carter following close behind.

"_Carter_," Clint suddenly spoke in her ear. "_You still kickin'_?"

"You know it," she responded lightly, one finger pressed to her ear. "Having fun down there?"

"_You know it_," Clint chuckled, the '**thwip' **of his bow sounding through the comm. "_They really don't want us getting up there."_

"We're close to Monroe," Carter said, Tony holding up the grate as she slid under it and into the main corridor. "We're on his floor."

"_Kick his ass, gorgeous_," Clint signed off, leaving Carter smiling as she reached the door at the end of the corridor.

"Here we are," Tony said, Jarvis beginning to hack into the security panel guarding the door. "You ready for this?"

"…you know it," Carter stated, fingers curling around her golden daggers, the static in her blood charging in fury. "Open the door."


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight Melody's Last Stand

**I shouldn't have enjoyed writing this one as much as I did, but oh well. Enjoy!**

**Jay X**

* * *

As If I Was Human

Chapter Thirty Eight - Melody's Last Stand

"Mom!" Carter yelled, dashing into the open room. Melody Thomas stood alone, a long katana in her right hand, with no sign of Harmon Monroe anywhere. Carter's eyes searched madly, but she knew it was in vain. "Where is he?!" She demanded, her hair whipping in her face as she spun to glare at her mother.

"He's watching," Melody replied, cocking her head to the side. "We're just about to unleash a world of hurt on your little friends." Carter jerked around when Tony fell to one knee, the weight of his suit cracking the floor.

"Tony!" She called, rushing to him. "What's wrong? What happened?!"

"EMP wave," Tony replied, his voice crackling through his mask. "Knocked out a few programmes…losing facial recognition…it's fine, we can adapt the-"

"Tony!" The lights on his suit went out, his head lulling forward. "Tony!" Carter shouted, the entire suit going dead. She then let out a yelp, the comm in her ear emitting a high pitched shriek. Tony's suit whirred back into action as the lights overhead blew out, showering them in glass.

"Uh…Jarvis, did you mean to destroy the ambience?" Carter breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Tony's voice. "No, no, I love it…more sultry, that was not me complaining."

"_Carter_!" Carter's comm buzzed back to life, Steve's voice calling her name. "_Carter, you there_?"

"Steve!" Carter gasped, spinning back round to face her mother, who was smirking at the commotion going on in front of her. "Steve, are you all right?"

"_Did the blast wave hit you_?" Steve asked, his voice urgent, shouting and bawling in the background.

"It got Tony," she replied. "Took out the suit, but he's fine now. My mother's here, but Monroe's AWOL. What's going on down there?"

_"Bruce decimated the guards, but that wave knocked him right out. Uh…he's naked, Carter…Bruce is naked."_

"God…" Carter fought down a snigger, glancing up at Tony.

_"But we have bigger problems,_" Steve continued. "_A set of security doors were set off, and we're trapped in here. I can't get them open without the Hulk. The vents are…there's some sort of gas…we need Tony to get these doors open!"_

"He's on his way," Carter assured Steve, turning to Tony. "Did you get that?" She asked him.

"If I leave you-"

"I'll be fine," Carter insisted, glancing at her mother, who still stood smirking away. "Save them. Now!"

"I'll be back," he promised, before his thrusters powered up and shot him through the window and out the room.

Carter turned to Melody, breathing deep. Melody's katana glinted in the darkened room, the only light coming from the broken window, and jolts of electricity travelled the blade, hissing in the air.

"You can't win, my love," Melody warned her daughter, pointing the katana towards her, it's tip glistening. "But you can join us. Fight with me, protect Mr Monroe like we were always meant to."

"No," Carter said, unsheathing her daggers and gripping them tight. "He killed Dad, he made you a monster, he won't take me too."

"He already has you, Carter," Melody hissed. "You just don't realise it yet. Right now, your friends are dying, your boyfriend is dying, and if you force my hand…I will kill you too."

"You won't. I'll stop you, Mom," Carter stated firmly, raising her daggers in front of her, her own static energy pulsing into them. "And then I'll free you."

Carter jumped back as Melody lunged forward, the katana slicing through the air before clashing against one of Carter's daggers as she threw it up to block the hit. Sparks rained from both blades, sizzling against the ground, and the weapons met again in the air, Carter continuing to back away as Melody pushed forward.

"Come on, my love," Melody taunted. "You're not even trying!"

"I don't have to try," Carter spat back. "You really think you can make me sweat?"

"I defeated you before," Melody reminded her. "I can do it again."

"You didn't defeat me," Carter replied, her nerves burning as she summoned more electricity into her daggers. "I let you win so Clint and Natasha could escape."

"Foolish girl," Melody chided her daughter, tutting as she shook her head. "Sentiment will be the death of you."

"Maybe, but it'll save you." Carter blocked another blow from the katana with one dagger, and sliced at her mother's arm with the other.

Melody drew back with a pained hiss, the blood gushing to the surface and dripping to the floor, but Carter gave her no time to recover. She flew at Melody, tackling her to the ground, knocking the sword from her hand. It skidded across the floor, and Carter straddled her mother, dropping her daggers and raining punches down on her.

Wrapping her legs around Carter's waist, Melody flipped the two over, striking Carter repeatedly as she squirmed underneath her. Carter lifted her legs upwards, coiling her ankles around Melody's neck and yanking her backward. Losing her balance, Melody fell to the side, giving Carter the chance she needed to escape her mother's hold. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing at the nearby katana, Melody picking up the daggers.

Unused to the weight of a sword, Carter stumbled when she raised the blade to block Melody's next attack, and her own blows were weak and sloppy. She needed to get her daggers back.

Instead of blocking, Carter dodge rolled to the side, putting some distance between them, and held the katana before her, waiting for Melody to approach her again.

"Wanna switch back, my love?" Melody teased, spinning the daggers nimbly in her hands. "I'm afraid I'm enjoying the change just a little too much."

"I'm glad you're having fun," Carter responded. "Because it won't last."

The two lunged at each other once more.

* * *

"Right," Tony said to himself, arriving at the blast doors. "Hang in there, guys, we'll have you out before you can blame me for whatever goes wrong next."

Digging his fingers into the hinges, Tony pulled with all his suit's strength, but the door wouldn't budge.

"Okay, tank missile," he decided, flying a few yards back and holding out his arm. The small missile powered up and rushed at the door, colliding with the metal and exploding. Bits of rock littered the area, but when the smoke cleared, the door were still standing.

"Oh, come on!" Tony whined. "Right, you want some bigger guns, I'll give you some bigger guns." The flaps at his shoulders opened, and a series of missiles popped out, each aimed at the blast doors. Another, much louder, explosion ensued, but Tony was furious to see the doors unharmed.

"Is that how you wanna play?" Tony asked the doors, his sensors quickly scanning for any weak points. "I'll play your game."

"_Sir, I'm detecting no structural weakness, and the doors are heavily reinforced on the other side."_

"Doors open, Jarvis," Tony told his computer. "That's what doors are meant to do. Concentrate all power into the pinpointed laser, if we can just make a big enough hole we can vent the gas."

"_The laser in charged, sir._"

Tony pointed his arm at the door again, the small laser cartridge opening up and firing a powerful laser at the door. It slowly burned away the metal, and Tony etched a small circle into the door, pulling out the chuck of metal and pressing his eye to the hole.

"Think Monroe'll like the new peephole?" He called through, spying the rest of the team collapsed on the floor, their breathing shallow.

"Get us out of here!" Steve gasped.

"Jarvis, can we use the rotor blades to air out the gas?" Tony asked, glancing at the appropriate panel on his upper arm.

"_Not entirely, but it will give us some more time."_

"Do it." Tony held his left arm to the hole, and the panel opened to reveal the fan blades, whirring quickly, drawing out the gas. He powered up his pinpoint laser again, using his right arm to draw a another circle, one big enough for the team to escape through. They continued to splutter and cough as the gas was sucked from the room, and Steve was on his feet by the time Tony finished the second hole. With a powerful punch, the Captain shoved away the metal, and returned to his team, hauling Natasha out first. Clint soon followed with an unconscious Bruce over his shoulder.

"Anybody bring a spare pair of pants for our resident monster?" Tony asked with a grin, spying Bruce's bare ass. "And some disinfectant for Legolas's shirt? It's got Hulk wang all over it."

"Shut up," Natasha panted, her face slightly blue as she breathed heavily. "How's Carter doing?"

"Sparky?" Tony asked through his comm. "You busy?"

"_Kinda_," came Carter's reply, audible grunts and clangs echoing in the background. "_Is Clint okay?_"

"I'm fine, babe," Clint answered, dropping Bruce to the floor. "We're all okay, we'll be with you soon."

"_Take your time,_" Carter told them. "_Mom's not as tough as she thinks._"

"Any sign of Monroe?" Steve asked her.

"_Nothing yet_," Carter confessed. "_But Melody seems to think he's still around_."

"Good," Steve stated. "Hang in there."

* * *

"We better wrap this up," Carter quipped to Melody, the katana's blade clashing with the daggers yet again. "I've got some friends coming." Melody snarled angrily, pressing forward with her attacks.

"You can't win!" She shrieked, spinning at Carter, daggers whirring through the air, becoming desperate.

"We both know I can," Carter returned, successfully blocking each blow, sparks fizzing between the pair, some dropping to the floor, others absorbed into the mother and daughter's bodies. "We both know I will."

Melody let out another furious yell, throwing the daggers to the ground and charging at Carter. Letting the katana fall, Carter raised her hands, catching her mother, both of them tumbling to the ground. Twisting out of Melody's grasp, Carter gripped her mother's arms, yanking them behind her back, trapping her in place. Melody squirmed, trying to break Carter's hold, but she couldn't get free.

"Let me go, you bitch!" She screeched, wrestling in her daughter's hold.

"Stay still, Mom," Carter replied. "We'll get rid of that chip at you'll be fine."

"You still think it's that simple?!" Melody taunted cruelly. "That we'd have no backup plan."

"Shut up," Carter snapped, pulling Melody's arms tighter.

"He's gone now," she continued. "I gave the signal, and he's long gone."

"What signal?" Carter demanded. "What signal?!"

"As soon as the fight turned against me," Melody chuckled, feeling her daughter's rage pulse through her. "He's nowhere you'll ever find him. Gone, forever."

"I'll find him," Carter swore. "I won't stop until I find him!"

"Carter!" Clint voiced shouted out, Carter twisting her neck around to see him rush into the room.

"Where's Tony?" Carter called, relief washing over her to see her boyfriend unharmed.

"Right here, Sparky," Tony replied, flying into the room.

"Get the chip," Carter ordered, Melody still struggling in her arms. "Get it out of her!"

"You got it." Tony landed in front of them, Carter pushing Melody to the ground and holding her down with Clint's help.

"Clint, get back," Carter warned him. "She could shock you."

"We're doing this together, babe," Clint replied, meeting her eyes with a firm determination. "Together, or not at all."

"But if she starts-"

"We won't give her the chance," Clint promised. "Get a move on Tony!"

"I need to find the damn thing first," Tony pointed out, his H.U.D. quickly scanning Melody's writhing body. "Okay…got it. Hold still, Mrs Thomas. Knife," he then called over to Natasha, who had just caught up with them, along with Steve and a now conscious Bruce, who was dressed in a pair of black pants much to big for him. Natasha swiftly grabbed and tossed over one of Carter's discarded daggers, Tony catching it neatly. "Here we go."

Carter and Clint continued to hold down Melody as Tony made a slice behind her left ear, pulling the sliver of flesh away to reveal the control chip that had been there for so many years. Tears formed in Carter's eyes, tears of relief and sorrow, as Tony sent a small pulse over the chip, disabling it.

"Wh- h-help! Help me!" Melody suddenly called out fearfully, her eyes wide and panicked. "What's happening- please!"

"Mom, Mom," Carter soothed her, stroking her face as Tony finally removed the chip. Tears splashed down onto Melody's cheek as Carter began to cry. "Mom, are you okay?"

"C-Carter?" Melody asked, her eyes screwing shut as if in pain. "You're…you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Carter breathed, Clint releasing Melody and rolling her onto her back. Carter crouched over her mother, squeezing her hand tightly. "We freed you, you're safe now."

"Mon-Monroe?" Melody gasped, her breathing ragged and pained. "He, he-"

"He's gone," Carter told her. "But it doesn't matter, we'll find him. We'll find him."

"He's…there's a safe house," Melody choked out. "In…in Alaska…he went there."

"Shh," Carter said softly, wiping the tears from Melody's eyes. "It's okay, you're gonna be fine."

"K-Kodiak Island," Melody continued, wincing as she spoke. "Near the…red…Carter?"

"I'm here, Mom," Carter promised, holding her mother's hand to her chest. "I'm right here."

"What's happening?" Melody asked, her eyes afraid as she opened them to look up at her daughter.

"W-what do you mean?" Carter asked, looking up at Tony, before returning her gaze to her mother. "What's wrong?"

"My…my head…" Melody gasped, clenching her eyes shut again. "It's…"

"She's dying," Tony said quietly, Carter's head whipping up to stare at him.

"No," she breathed. "No, no, no."

"I'm sorry, Carter," Tony said, kneeling down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "The chip…it's been controlling her for too long…her brain can't cope without it anymore-"

"Then put it back!" Carter shouted, tears pouring down her face. "Put it back in!"

"I can't," Tony admitted sadly. "It's too late, the damage has been done. Her synapses are shutting down…that's why she can't move."

"There must…there must be something," Carter wept, looking down at her mother's failing body. "S.H.I.E.L.D. will have a way to-"

"Carter," Melody whispered, her breathing becoming shallow as she spoke. "It's…S'okay. Immm 'ith…your….fath-father…n-now…"

"But I just got you back," Carter sobbed, pulling her mother's hand up to cradle her face. "It's not fair."

"I llllo-ve you," Melody slurred, her eyes sliding closed. "Ssso-o-o pr-proud of…you, m-my lovvve."

"I love you, too," Carter murmured beneath her tears. "I love you so much, Mom."

Melody's chest rose and fell once more, before she died.


End file.

Avengers, Fantasy, Romance