Captain America: Civil War
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"Barton!"

"Already on my way, Stark!" Clint called back into the comm, taking the stairs two at a time down to the lobby. He skidded to a stop when Bucky came into view. I suppose he wasn't Bucky anymore. No, the trigger words took that away.

"Hey," He said, holding his hand up. "I know you're there, that's what you said, right?"

The soldier's eyes narrowed.

"That you can still hear me, see me, right, Bucky?"

"I don't know who that is." His voice was hard and even.

Clint sighed, taking a step back before drawing his bow. He only got one nocked back and flown before he had to drop the bow all together, opting for his batons in close combat.

Bucky shoved him back, one arm looped around Clint's, and thrusted him through a glass table. Clint could only play defense, forearms pressed to his face as the Winter Soldier pounded against them with his fists. There was blood pouring from his nose and running down his forehead, making him bleary eyed. Bucky, barely a bruise, wrapped his cold hand around Clint's neck, lifting him against the pillar and squeezing enough to restrict oxygen.

Clint gasped, kicking at the soldier's chest. He grappled for some kind of ground, some way to get free but with Steve still at the bottom of an elevator shaft, Nat out of commission, and Tony with no suit, he was practically on his own.

"Shit, Buck," Clint choked, pulling at his fingers. "You could at least.. remember- me-"

Bucky heaved, grunting lowly and slamming Clint back again.

"Stark!"

"Yeah, I'm trying!" Tony yelled back, ducking behind a wall.

Clint squeezed his eyes shut, trying to collect his thoughts. He knew Bucky'd feel like shit when he came back. He'd see the bruise on his archers neck and he'd blame himself. He'd leave like he had the first time it happened, which would be alright if Clint could just get him back.

"Bu- Bucky!" It came out as a whine, Clint's voice strained. He'd given up struggling when Buck's second hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Hey, i-it's me! It's Clint!"

"Hang on!" Tony yelled, fiddling with something at his wrist.

"Bucky, you know me! I- we-we met two years ago, remember?" He wheezed. "You-you called me Hawkass! A-and our-"

Clint squealed when the soldier's grip tightened for just a moment. At that point, it didn't matter that Tony was there failing at helping and no one else was conscious enough to aid. It didn't matter who could hear him talking because he had to bring Bucky back.

"Our first kiss!" He cried, Tony's head jerking up. "W-was New Years! We were on the- the balcony! And you told me you just wanted a r-est and I sai-shit- I said- I wanted you- c-cause I was kinda dru-drunk."

The Winter Soldier softened slightly, shoulders slouching and his grip on Clint weakening enough for him to wiggle free. He clutched his neck and stumbled away, breathing heavily. Not that he had time to recover because Bucky was on him, sending them both crashing through another wall.

Clint laid groaning on the ground, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath even slightly. He could hear the soldier approach with heavy footfalls.

"And I told you I loved you on the roof when you couldn't sleep!" Clint quickly continued, scrambling back. "I told you how much you, Bucky Barnes, mean to me and I- fuckin' hell!"

Bucky yanked him to his feet, eyes wide and angry.

"I know you're in there!" Clint screamed, fists on the other's chest the best he could do. "Just listen to me!"

Behind them, Steve slid to a stop beside Tony.

"Wait," Stark held a hand out. "He's getting sloppy. It's working."

"What is?"

"Clint- did you know?"

They both stopped as Bucky dropped Clint again and clutched his head. They watched him double over and moan, stumbling back a little. Clint sat up, spitting out blood. He didn't want to move if Bucky by chance hadn't been.. recalibrated, but it was hard not to when your body was shuddering from lack of air.

"Bucky?" He asked softly.

"Holy shit," Steve cursed because Bucky was turning around and violently convulsing.

"Hey, hey, are you back? Look-look at me," Clint struggled to his feet and grabbed onto Bucky's shoulders. "You back?"

He fumbled Clint's neck with a shaky hand.

"I- No."

"No?" Clint quickly shoved his hand away and skidded backwards. "No?"

Bucky didn't get a chance to answer. Steve hit him over the head with his shield before he could, the soldier collapsing to the ground.

"Yeah, good idea.." Clint whispered, tears pouring down his usually stone faced features. He'd been intensely trained to hide everything when on missions but seeing Bucky-

"What's your relationship with him?"

Clint shook his head at Steve and walked away, far away, as CIA agents came to restrain Barnes.

"Barton!"

"You ever get your heart ripped out?"

Sharon Carter raised a brow at him.

"No? I didn't think so," He continued, not rudely but more defeated. "It hurts."

"I can imagine," Sharon nodded. "So, you and Bucky? You knew where he was?"

"Can I say I didn't?"

She sighed.

"Right." Clint's shoulders slumped forward. "Yeah, I'd actually been tracking him since SHIELD went under. Steve, I didn't tell him. Thought I'd do some good on my own, and when I found him.. He, I can't explain it."

"Try, maybe I can put together I story for you."

He glanced at her with grateful eyes.

"He didn't wanna come back with me, of course, but let me hang around without trying to kill me for a week or two. Then when I had to leave and check in with Fury, he'd let me back every month or so. So I kept coming back. He finally started talking, and then he wouldn't stop and we talked about everything. We.. He, Bucky, he's a good man. I know he didn't do that- I.. Sharon, you can keep a secret right?"

"For you, maybe."

"Yeah," Clint scoffed. "Well, I'm in deep shit, I love him."

"Clint, a moment?"

He reeled around and stared at the man. Clint shooed away the medics that were trying to patch his bloody face. It was torturous, yeah, but it'd ground Bucky to see him like that.

"Steve, sure." He stepped away from Agent Carter and followed Steve.

"So-"

"Look, I'll stop you there. I don't wanna talk about me an' him. I don't even wanna think about it until he's conscious cause then I gotta be the one to talk to him, okay?"

Steve paused a moment and watched Clint carefully.

"Why?"

"We have a process, a system of grounding," Clint said softly, wiping the blood from his eyelashes.

"You knew-"

"His choice to not tell you." Clint cut the Captain off, wrapping an arm over his own ribcage. "A lot of things happen in the head of someone recovering from mind control."

"Right, forgot," Steve huffed and scratched the side of his head. "But you two..?"

"Yeah, however you wanna call it."

"Like..?"

"Like together, yes, Steve," Clint groaned.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Barton? He's conscious."

As soon as Clint'd gotten the cell location, he'd bolted there with the permission of Everett Ross to be the first in. Not that Ross knew why, just that Clint was well known as a master interrogator after pulling the stunt with Natasha years ago.

The door slid silently shut behind him and he kept his head down low, refusing to look up until he was seated across from Bucky. The sight was nearly horrific. He'd sustained a bloody nose during the fall but it was the mechanized locks around his neck, arms, legs, and chest keeping him pressed to the chair that were the worst. His metal arm had a scrambler strapped to his wrist and shoulder, powering it down. He was in another giant glass box only this time the glass had thin wires running through it, the entire thing an electric box just waiting to shock him if he touched moved out of line.

"Hey, Buck," Clint whispered.

His eyes shot open and he looked at the blond with bright blue terror.

"Clint." Bucky's chest heaved with the name, lips only parted enough to expel it. "Clint."

"Yeah, that's me," He nodded. "That's me. And you're Bucky. You're.."

There was moment of silence where Clint looked to the camera watching them and Bucky's pleading eyes stayed firmly on him as if begging to hear more of his voice.

"You're my Bucky, yeah?"

"Yeah.." James sighed. "Clint- your-your face.."

Clint shifted and dragged his sleeve over his brow and shrugged. It wasn't intentional, but the movement shot tendrils of pain up into his back and around his side. He winced, clutching his right arm to his chest.

"Your neck.."

Bucky turned all attention to staring down at Clint's bright red neck. It was starting to die down, but from experience Bucky knew the bruise would be monstrous. Why Clint stayed with him was unknown. It was an abusive relationship, one occasionally leaving Clint to heal for weeks. Why would he stay and allow himself to be hurt so substantially?"

"Bucky!"

He finally snapped back and tuned in to Clint's voice.

"Clint," He responded.

"Don't focus on that," Clint said like it wasn't his plan to hit hard with his physical appearance. "Tell me- tell me where we were."

"We-" Bucky swallowed. "We were in Romania.."

"That's right," Clint smiled and stood on shaky legs to lean against the glass box. It wasn't him it was programmed to shock, so he placed an open palm against it. "And what'd you tell me, B-Buck?"

"I uh.. I told you.." Bucky struggled for a moment. "That I.. Clint, here?"

Clint nodded quickly, shamelessly letting himself cry and gasp. Bucky listened to him before breathing harshly.

"That I would follow you.. and you told me to leave, but I said not without you because- because we- I-"

"You said.." Clint muttered, words cracking with his voice as he tried to help Bucky along. "Because you couldn't figure it out without me, right? Figure what out?"

"Figure out.." Bucky mumbled, eyes brightening with a slight epiphany. "Figure out how you make me feel- Figure out.. Figure love out."

"Good," Clint hiccuped, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry.. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I- I let this happen, I let you-!"

He slammed a fist into the glass, startling Bucky.

"Clint?"

"I let them take you, I let them frame you, I let this happen to you, didn't I?"

"I.. no," Bucky shook his head the best he could. "No, my fault. Steve- he.."

"I'm sorry," Clint said again, aggressively rubbing his ear. He was surprised whoever was watching had let him carry on so much. Or maybe it just was Sharon.

"Clint, Doll." Pure joy flowed through Clint at those words. It'd taken longer than usual without the physical element, but the Brooklyn drawl was back. "I'm the sorry one, I'm the one- Clint, you gotta go."

"Not yet, Sharon said she-"

"No, not just the room, me. Leave me."

"No." Clint looked at Bucky and sniffed hard, to keep his nose from dripping. His whole body hurt, head pounding and begging to stop racing, but he refused to stand down. "This is an occupational risk."

"I hurt you."

"No you don't."

"Clint-"

"I'm not leaving you, remember this?" Clint held up his arm and pointed at the dot on his right pinky.

Bucky glanced to his matching mark.

"Yes.."

"I promised." Clint pressed his forehead to the glass. "I will get you out of here and somewhere safe, that is my promise to keep."

"Safe," Bucky laughed sarcastically. "No where with me is safe."

Clint sighed, going to say something when the door opened to reveal Steve. The archer stepped back quickly and wiped his blood from the window. He coughed and smiled at Bucky.

"I'll be back."

"I'll be expecting ya, hon," He whispered back, smirking lightly, then turning his gaze to the Captain. "Steve."

Clint slid out, hiding himself in the handling room for the rest of the day.

"You and Barton, huh?" Steve asked.

"Mm," Bucky hummed. "Barnes."

"What?"

"I bought a ring, y'know. Jus' doesn't wear it."