Marvel Avengers Imagines

Clint Barton/Avengers - Betrayal

A/N-Is swearing ok? I've used swear words before this, but I think I might more often and I wanted to check that everyone's alright with that. If not, I could put warnings at the start of chapters? Anyway, enjoy x

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you do it?"

It had been another long, wearing mission and you couldn't help the wide smile that crept onto your face at the familiar sight of Avengers tower towering over New York City. Your luggage had been sent ahead of you to the base, a luxury that you weren't used to, even now, after being an Avenger for all of two years. Therefore, you were empty-handed as you strolled leisurely up to the entrance, a slight limp and bandaged left wrist as a souvenir of the assignment.  You breathed in the well-known smells of the modern lift; nothing had changed in the couple months you'd been away. You stared forwards, breathing steadily. You were nervous to see the team again, after so long away. It was ridiculous really, you'd been part of the group for what felt like forever, they'd always made you feel welcome and you were close to all of them. They were family, for god's sake, and you were more than excited to see their faces again. So why did you feel anxious? You put it down to the fact that you'd never liked change, and this was a change from nearly solitude for 3 weeks, in the icy regions of Siberia, back to the warmish climate of New York and a tower full of friends. Plus, you hated being the centre of attention, as you knew you would be when the lift doors opened.

You were right about the attention, but you weren't focused on in the way you expected. 

The doors drew apart slowly, the absence of FRIDAY's welcoming voice making you frown for a moment. You stepped out cautiously into the spacious living area; home of the Avengers. No-one was there. 

"Hello?" Your tentative voice echoed throughout the empty room. "Anyone there? Avengers? Bad guys? Pizza delivery?" 

Maybe they got called away on an emergency assignment, you thought to yourself. Although you were disappointed there was no pizza, even if it was a shot in the dark. 

A sudden yawn hit you and you stretched your arms up, the fatigue of travelling aching through your body, begging you to lie down. 

SWOOSH! 

You screamed as an arrow shot through the air, narrowly missing your face and pinning your sleeve to the wall behind, your arm hanging underneath. An identical one whizzed past, trapping your other arm, before you had time to even process what was happening. You tugged against the fabric, but the thick material, made for protection on missions, was working against you this time, and it wouldn't budge. 

Your head whipped up at the sound of footsteps getting closer, storming down the stairs rapidly from the higher floor in the huge room. Frantically, you pulled your arm away from the sharp arrowhead, but it wouldn't break. It was no use. You stopped a moment later anyway, when you saw who'd fired the arrows and who was charging towards you, his face alight with anger.

"Clint? You idiot, you almost shot me!" Astonished and bewildered, you stared at the blonde figure heading towards your ensnared self. 

Abruptly, the space between you was gone and you felt the sharp, cool edge of a knife pressed firmly against your throat. Clint's body was extremely close to yours, too close for comfort, you were both breathing heavily and you could feel the heat of his body, resonated by his fury. His face that was so full of frightening anger slowly softened, but his hand that was holding the blade was still shaking.

"C-Clint?" You stuttered, trying not to move an inch. "What's going on? Why is there a knife pressed against my neck?" Your heart was thumping against your rib-cage and your stomach twisted with worry.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you do it?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was harsh and broken enough to make you eyes brim with tears. 

"Do what?" 

Out of all the team, you considered yourself to be closest to Clint; he was your best friend, in fact, you'd probably never admit it, you had no idea what shit storm would happen if you ever let it slip, but you felt you were more than friends, at least on your end you felt it. The intimacy of the situation didn't slip your mind, how fucking close his face was to yours, but no, you couldn't, shouldn't, think about that when there were more important things going on, even if you weren't sure what exactly was going on. Either way, it (it being held at knife-point and treated with violence from the person you trusted the most) hurt. It hurt a lot. 

"Clint, what the fuck are you talking about?" 

"YOU KNOW WHAT!" He shouted, the blade pushed further in. 

A tear rolled down your cheek as you attempted to retreat further back from him, but you were already backed up against the wall. His expression drained of anger again, as it had done before, at your distress. He now just looked heartbroken. 

"Please, (Y/N). There must be a reason, an explanation, anything. I have to know. I have to." 

Your lip trembled as you stared back at him, your distressed, tearful eyes locked on his lost, pained ones. 

"You're scaring me, Clint." You whimpered softly. 

Suddenly, Clint was hauled off you and the threatening knife removed from your throat, enabling you to breathe freely again. You let out a sigh of relief and saw that Steve and Tony had been the ones to 'save' you. Would Clint have done anything? To hurt you, really hurt you? 

"Barton, we had a plan." Steve was calm, but his voice sounded annoyed. 

He glowered in response, shaking off the hold of his captors and glaring at you. Steve turned to you, his face stern.

"Miss (Y/L/N), we're going to have to ask you to come in for questioning." 

"Miss (Y/L/N)? What the fuck's going on, Steve? Since when did you call me 'Miss (Y/L/N)'?" You glared back at the Captain, utterly bewildered. This had to be an April Fools. In November. 

"Fine, (Y/N), we're bringing you in. Kindly come with us. Now." Tony demanded. 

"And if I don't?" 

Tony raised his hand, the glove of his suit ready with its glowing repulsor pointed at your head. 

"Please, (Y/N). Just come with us and no one will get hurt." Steve's voice softened. 

"A three-on-one fight wouldn't be very fair." Tony joked, but his tone didn't match his words, remaining hard, almost snarling. 

"Are you arresting me? Legally, you have to tell me why, right? I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what I've fucking done."

Steve sighed, then stared straight into your eyes.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow."  

Ahhh! I'm excited for writing more of this, even though I have barely anything planned or how it's going to turn out. Ideas in the comments are welcome! All I'll tell you is you're innocent, I'm not going to make the reader a bad person. And I'm planning on Loki featuring, probably in the next chapter. Thanks for reading, please vote and comment x