Last Time

"Have I told you recently that I love you Tony?" He said in relief as he almost fell into the waiting arms of Ironman, who sent off a jet propulsion as the big ugly with the gun came around the corner.

"Not recently." Tony replied cockily and Clint could almost hear the smirk that was bound to be on his face in his voice as Tony flew them back out of the skylight, calling in his success and getting everyone to pull back. They needed medical attention, especially Harry, but he'd be fucking damned if he was now hobbled or left with a permanent limp because some fucker had shot up his legs and hip. He'd come back just to make sure the bastard was dead.

Chapter Three – Recovery

The medical bay of S.H.I.E.L.D was like a fully equipped hospital room, complete with nurses and doctors. Clint had had the bullets that were lodged in his body removed, from his hip and from his thigh; they were the only shots that weren't through and through.

He was pretending to sleep, partly because the nurses would kill him if they knew he was awake still, but mostly to delay having to give his report, where he would have to tell his team that he had raped Harry as he was tied up and defenceless.

He turned to the side and slitted his eyes open to see Harry in the bed next to him, hooked up to all sorts, stitched up in most parts, and on several different IV's. He hadn't gone back into heat, hadn't released any more pheromones, Clint wondered if it was because his heat period had ended or because he was deeply unconscious.

He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep, he was exhausted, but his mind kept playing over what had happened, what he had done, he was a vile human being and he didn't deserve to be an Alpha. Why had he been born an Alpha? If he had been a Beta, he would never have lost his head like that at smelling Harry's heat pheromones, it would have been terribly difficult to focus, it would have distracted him, torn his mind in two, but he would never have raped the little Omega, he had so much self-control he was sure that if he had been a born Beta, and not an Alpha, he would have focused on getting them both out, not on mating the twenty year old, who had such an extensive list of damage from consistent and heavy torture that they were worried about his mental state.

Of course they wanted Harry to wake up as soon as possible. The building they had rescued Harry from had been blown up. Apparently Tony's jet propulsion had hit the big ugly, who had reflexively pulled the trigger, right into a gas pipe, which had set off a chain reaction and only a minute after they had gotten out and everyone had retreated away to regroup, the building had completely blown up, along with everyone inside it. They had no way of knowing what Harry had told them, or who the people inside the building had been working for, so they didn't know who had the information Harry had given them or where to find them. Fury was of course livid as questioning the bumbling Agent Nasri had only revealed that he was a lazy bastard who hadn't wanted to do his own work so had bullied the young, impressionable intern into doing it instead. He hadn't been involved in the kidnapping plot or sold Agent Potter out to people who would be interested in kidnapping him.

Bartholomew Nasri had made life long enemies of the Avengers, had been stripped from S.H.I.E.L.D and had been fired indefinitely. But it still left the question of how had those people known to take Harry, how had they known that he had the information they needed?

A touch to his hand had Clint jumping in fright, but he made sure not to screw up his face, so the person touching him didn't know he was awake. The hand was large, so maybe it was Steve, who was feeling so guilty as it had been his orders that had put Clint in the building, though they all knew that Clint would have done it anyway and they had had no way of knowing that they wouldn't be able to get into the building themselves when Clint had slipped into the vents.

"I know you're awake Clint." The voice of Phil Coulson had him breathing out in a huff and opening his eyes. His Handler knew him too well. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Clint groaned back. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. The painkillers were wearing off so he was in pain that was steadily building and he felt so guilty for adding to Harry's pain and list of injuries.

"You look it." Phil told him softly, brushing his overlong hair from his face, he'd need it cut soon. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

Clint shook his head tiredly. "Can't sleep, I feel so guilty."

"You are the one who got him out of there Clint, what do you have to feel guilty for? None of the shots aimed at you hit him; you may have jarred him a bit running, but that couldn't be helped. I know your Alpha instincts would have been out of your control at seeing an Omega so injured and hurt, but don't let them force you into feeling guilty when you saved him. He would have died in there Clint; you had to run to get the both of you out."

Clint swallowed and turned away from Phil, who's soft, understanding look hardened and turned into curiosity.

"That isn't why you feel guilty, is it Clint?" Phil asked neutrally. "The doctors say that the suppressant in Agent Potter's blood is completely untraceable. The tablets aren't in his system anymore; they said it was a miracle that he hadn't gone onto a heat period, but he did, didn't he?"

Clint swallowed and clenched his hands, which pulled on the tape holding the IV needle into his arm. He nodded slowly.

"There was an industrial air conditioner in the room, I didn't notice it. It was exchanging the air so I couldn't smell the pheromones. When I last reported in, I was outside of the room calling for the medical teams to be prepared; I couldn't smell anything so I thought it was fine. As soon as I stepped into the room, I smelt him. He smelt so good, underneath the blood and the sweat and I didn't see any of the damage on him, he looked gorgeous, he smelled amazing. He was so far in his heat he was begging for me. I couldn't control myself, my Alpha instincts were already at the forefront because I knew an Omega had been taken, had been tortured, I could hear him screaming and I thought it was in pain, but it wasn't. I made a mistake and I hurt him more."

Coulson breathed in deeply and looked behind him, to the bed that held an unconscious Harry and he swallowed.

"I have to tell Director Fury, Clint. You know I do."

Clint nodded. "I was going to do it myself when I got out of this bed. I was going to tell all of you and take all of the consequences together."

"There are laws protecting Omegas Clint, but there are also laws protecting Alphas. Everyone knows that once an Alpha scents out an Omega on heat that they can't help themselves, you can't be prosecuted for it Clint, but you could lose your job because Harry works here as well, if he complains that you are too close to him, it will be you losing your job regardless of how long you've been here or what your job entails and if he calls rape, you could be looking at a court case."

"I know. I just want to apologise to him first. I never meant to hurt him. I wanted to rescue him, not rape him when he was already in so much pain. I feel terrible."

Phil sighed and patted his shoulder. "You need to make a full report Clint, leaving nothing out."

"I wasn't planning on leaving anything out Sir."

Phil nodded and went to tell the doctors that Agent Potter might have been impregnated. Clint was in shock; his mind was stuck on one thing and one thing only. He hadn't yet realised that he could have fathered a baby on Agent Potter, that would change as soon as he calmed down and his body slipped out of its shocky state and as Agent Potter couldn't take the emergency contraceptives, the baby would likely be born unless Agent Potter opted for an abortion, there was always giving the baby up for adoption, but as an Omega it was unlikely, most Omegas who opted for adoption, usually changed their minds as soon as the baby was born and ended up keeping it.

He told the doctor, who rushed to Agent Potter to begin more testing, before he told a nurse that Clint was still awake and wasn't sleeping. She clicked her tongue, loaded up a syringe with a sedative and had injected it through his IV line before Clint could roll over and ask her what she was doing.

He tried to shout at her for drugging him, but his words slurred together and before he had finished his threat, he was fast asleep in the bed. Phil smiled at him, before leaving to debrief Fury and Steve, neither of them were going to be happy, but he hoped they were understanding, Clint was in enough pain and in such a state of guilt and self-hate that any more would hurt him deeply.


Clint woke up once again to someone touching his hand, it was smaller this time, but his groggy mind couldn't come up with anyone. He couldn't believe Phil had ratted him out to the nurse, how dare she drug him like that!

"Clint?"

Clint slitted his eyes open and groaned at the bright light, he blinked several times very rapidly until his gluey eyes weren't so sensitive to the bright, overhead lights. Natasha was sat next to him, hand clutching his own.

"'Tasha, how are you?"

"I'm fine Clint. How are you?"

"Just peachy." He grumbled, trying to sit up. He caught sight of Harry, still a soft, pale grey colour, his blue, spider web of veins standing out too much on his pale body, tubes and wires crossing all over him, his tiny, stick like arms taped up with a needle into each forearm and a shunt in the back of the right hand. He swallowed. "Do you know Natasha?"

He turned to look at her and her blank, steely face told him nothing.

"Know what Clint?" She asked him.

He licked his lips and wondered if Phil had only told Fury and it hadn't gotten to the Avengers team yet.

"I…I raped him Natasha." He admitted completely and utterly shamed. He couldn't even meet her eyes. "He was hanging there, completely helpless and defenceless, there wasn't a Beta around to tell me it was wrong or that I shouldn't do it, it was just me and him and I thought it was a wonderful idea to mate him, I couldn't control myself, like some goddamned teenager. I raped him as he hung there from the ceiling, his body broken and so far into his heat he was just begging. I couldn't stop myself."

Clint closed his eyes and felt a bubble of hysteria build inside him. He swallowed it back down hard and sniffed, trying for subtlety, but he knew he had failed when Natasha's hand clenched over his.

"I know, Coulson told us Clint, but I wanted to hear it from you."

He looked at her. "You knew and yet you still come here. Why?"

"You're an Alpha Clint, when an Omega is so far into their heat that they're reduced to keening and begging, then you stood no chance as soon as you scented out his pheromones. I knew you had no choice and none of the others hold it against you, though Steve is on the side of the Omega, we all know he comes from a time when an Alpha had to protect Omegas at all times, all of them knew that if it had been them in your place, they would have lost it as well. It's a bit harrowing knowing that if one of them had gone in to get Harry, they would be in your place right now. Tony, Thor, Steve, Bruce, Coulson, Fury, they're all Alphas too Clint. It's only me and Pepper who are Betas and we're more understanding of your position."

"I wish you weren't." Clint said miserably. "I hurt him 'Tasha. I deserve to be beaten to a pulp."

"If it makes you feel better Thor tried to come and beat you to a pulp when he heard you had disrespected an Omega so badly, but he was stopped when he was reminded that you were sedated and recovering from four gun shots. He's calmed down now, but I think he might still want to beat you over the head with Mjölnir."

Clint blanched as he remembered watching Thor spar with a training dummy. When he went for it, he went for it and it was worse if he was practising with Mjölnir, or mole hill as Clint had taken to calling it before Thor had taught him how to pronounce his hammer's name properly, as he had been raised a warrior of Asgard, he often slipped into the fight and forgot he was supposed to be training and practising, not destroying the entire of Stark Tower.

"Relax Clint; you know he won't fight anyone he considers as unable to fight back. You're in a hospital bed, wired up to IVs and with six holes in your body. I'm sure by the time you're healed he'll be calmer and you can explain it to him before he challenges you to the death for the honour of the Omega."

Clint nodded as he looked back to Harry in the bed next to him. "Has he woken up at all?"

Natasha looked at the twenty year old and shook her head. "No. He was dehydrated, starved and very, very hurt Clint, they don't expect him to wake up anytime soon."

"How hurt?" Clint asked.

"You don't need to know that at the momen…."

"I want to know Natasha!" Clint interrupted angrily.

"The only bone broken was his right ankle; it was a clean break, like someone had gripped the back of his heel and the top side of his foot and twisted it sharply, snapping it, either for torture or to stop him from running away in the unlikely event that he got away."

"He wasn't getting away from that, he was tied several times with different ropes through a thick, steel hoop screwed into the concrete ceiling. Not to mention how weak he must have been."

"They didn't feed him anything the doctors don't think, he's lost so much weight, and his stomach is shrunken and empty. It looks like the torture mainly consisted of sleep deprivation, starvation, blades and burns, though some of the fresher wounds held traces of salt. He still has all of his fingers, toes, teeth and eyes, you likely already know he still has his genitals, so they hadn't progressed to mutilation, though he had been tied up for so long the doctors thought they would have to amputate his hands or the very least his fingers. They couldn't get the blood flow back into them at first, but that danger passed and though his fingers twitch randomly, they think he'll have full use of them still, but it's his one leg that is causing concerns, the burns go so deeply and the reflexes have completely gone, they think permanent nerve and muscle damage, but they can't be sure until he wakes up."

"What…what about what I did to him?" Clint asked.

"No trauma, no tears, no bruising. The doctors say for an Alpha caught in an Omegas heat, you were surprisingly gentle. They didn't even check him because they didn't think he had had a heat period and he showed no signs of trauma or rape, but once they knew that he had been mated, they looked further and found semen inside him, only yours though."

Clint felt sick with himself as the surge of pride and happiness filled him at hearing that he had been the only one to mate the Omega. He wanted to hurt himself for what he had done and for what he was feeling.

"It wasn't your fault Clint, it was circumstance."

"You've mentioned everyone but Tony and Bruce, what do they think of what I've done?"

"Bruce is Bruce. Of course he doesn't blame you Clint and Tony's just glad it wasn't him. He made a huge show of saying 'I told you so' and he toasted you and Harry with a bottle of bourbon, thanking you that you hadn't made him go into the building to get Harry."

"Yeah, that sounds like Tony." Clint managed a weak smile. "What about the people in the building, I know they're all dead now, but did we find anything out?"

"Well, not all of the building blew up Clint, two men survived, as well as several rooms which are being scoured."

"So nothing yet? I want the people who did this to Harry to pay."

"I know you do, we all do. I'm being drowned in protective Alpha pheromones, Steve's the worst, he's always the worst, but Thor is a close second in the Mother Henning. They obviously have never seen a cornered Omega beating the shit out of an Alpha."

Clint snorted. "I still say you made that up."

"I'm serious, I was right there watching them Clint."

"You're a Beta; you're supposed to stop Alphas from attacking Omegas."

"Trust me, that Omega held his own. He was a vicious little fucker."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Natasha snorted and patted Clint's hand. "Get some more rest; I'm going to go check in with Coulson and Fury."

"Come back and tell me?" Clint asked.

"Tomorrow, you need your rest."

"No, please, I don't want to sleep anymore."

"Don't make me get the nurse over here with another sedative." Natasha threatened.

Clint huffed. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Natasha smiled and on the way out, she softly told the nurse that Clint was awake and to keep an eye on him. She knew that if Clint didn't fall back to sleep within five minutes, he would have another sedative shoved into him, and maybe in his mood and with his mind set, that was a good thing, the kindest thing to give him at the moment was a dreamless, medicated sleep.


Tony Stark cursed as he typed lightning fast on the damaged keyboard, trying to salvage anything at all from the electronics from the room that had been the least damaged in the explosion. He was disgusted to see some of his own equipment, including his brand new Starkpads.

His mind was going a thousand miles a minute as he tried to get any amount of information from the laptop in front of him. It was damaged, but it wasn't destroyed and he wanted the information it held.

He thought of those few adrenaline fuelled minutes when he had heard over the com device that Clint was in imminent danger, that he thought he wasn't going to get out. He still remembered the Cap's desperate question 'Can't you climb?!' and the strained answer in his ear 'Negative. Bastard's taken out my legs.'

When he had gone through that skylight, not even knowing if he was on the right side of the building, seeing Clint stumbling around the corner a few moments later with a naked, unconscious body over his shoulder, had filled him with relief and with concern. He had seen the large, wet patches on Clint's trousers, the torn holes where the bullets had entered. He had counted five patches of blood, two visible holes in his legs and another at his waistline. He knew now that two of the four bullets that had been fired at Clint had gone in and come back out again, but two bullets had been caught in bone, but at the time it had looked like he had been shot several times in his legs and he had caught Clint as he stumbled into his arms, seeing the person who was most likely responsible for Clint's condition, if not Harry's as well, he shot off a blast before he could fully think it through, but even knowing what had happened after he had let off that blast, he regretted nothing, even if it did make his work harder, searching through singed and fire damaged electronics for any information that could help.

"Tony?"

He jerked up and looked around at Bruce, who was holding another laptop. He huffed out a breath.

"Am I expected to look through all of these computers and pads?" He demanded, even as he swiped the new laptop from Bruce and cracked it open carefully; hitting the power button and hoping it even came on at all.

"Clint woke up. Natasha said he was asking what we all thought of him."

"What, so birdbrain scores with the world's hottest Omega and he's asking what we think? Of course I'm jealous!" Tony teased.

"You know what he meant Tony." Bruce scolded.

"Yeah I know, but I'm sure Potter would much rather be mated by birdie than still be in that place."

Bruce nodded. "Natasha tried to tell him that, but in a softer way, she doesn't think he got it."

"He's been drugged up to his eyeballs for the last two days; of course he didn't get subtle. Now fuck off, I'm busy."

Bruce gave a wry smile. He loved talking with Tony, he didn't treat him any differently because of the other guy, he didn't side step around him or walk on eggshells around him, he wasn't worried about him getting angry and going green on him. Tony had always treated him just like the others, he teased him, spoke sharply and bluntly to him and wasn't afraid to speak his mind at all. He enjoyed being in Tony's company for that, and it was nice to be around someone whose eyes didn't show a flash of fear, a hint of hesitance if he stayed in the room for longer than a few seconds.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked, wanting to be around Tony just a little longer. Steve's henpecking over Clint and Harry's condition was making him edgy.

"Sure, get those pads over there and see what's on them, I haven't had a chance to look at them yet. I've spent two days on that laptop, three on the one before it and this one is not going to be any better." Tony hissed as he clicked keys at a faster pace than Bruce could keep up with.

He smiled and pulled up a seat opposite Tony and hit the power button for the first Starkpad, he wondered in Tony's reluctance to look at the pads was really because he was so busy with the laptops, or because he felt guilty for supplying the enemies with his technology, something he had done once before.


Harry flinched, feeling his leg jerk on the bed he was lying on. He blinked his eyes open, why was he on a bed? He looked around him, and tried to move as he saw a lot of people around another hospital bed. He tried not to make a sound, but his body was one giant throbbing agony and as he pulled on something on his stomach he sucked in a pained breath and the muscle in his leg started jumping under his skin, sending bolts of pain throughout his entire body and he grunted.

All at once he was surrounded by nurses and doctors and the people around the other bed had turned to look at him and he didn't like having so many people around him. As a woman approached him quickly, he forced his body up, ignoring the bone deep agony it caused him and he huddled up near the headboard, something pulled on his arms and he looked down to see various needles going under his skin. What were they doing? What was happening? Where was he?

He ripped the needles out with one hard jerk to each one, despite the nurses gasping and shouting at him not to. He was gasping for breath, he felt too hot, he couldn't breathe, his eyes were blurring as he tried to squash himself up against the headboard further.

Large, cool hands cupped his face and he found himself looking into the stern eyes, eye, of a man he had only heard of in stories and only knew the description of from gossiping work colleagues. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D Nick Fury. He swallowed, still panting as if he had run a mile, but his body was calming and with the dispersion of the rapid jolt of adrenaline, the pain was coming back with vengeance.

He couldn't believe it. S.H.I.E.L.D had come for him, the agents of his workplace had saved him from those people, he felt so relieved he could cry. Instead he sucked in lungful after lungful of disinfectant scented air. He hated hospitals so very much, they brought back pain filled, tainted memories that he wanted to forget had ever happened. He continued to breathe.

"Agent Potter, can you hear me?"

Harry blinked and from the look on the Director's face he had been trying to get his attention for a short while. He swallowed and sucked in a deeper lungful of air, calming himself, he could do this.

"Yes Sir."

"Do you know where you are?"

Harry looked around slower this time, taking in everything his eyes could see, noticing the familiar setting now that he wasn't panicking. He came here every single week for his suppressant tablets, he knew where he was and it slowed his racing heart. He nodded carefully, those large hands still cupping his face. "The med bay of S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters Sir."

"Do you remember who I am?" Another, softer voice asked and Harry's eyes slipped to the man standing behind and to the side of the Director.

A memory slipped to him, of spending the night under his desk, emerging to find a takeaway cup of coffee and a bag of blueberry muffins on a table between himself and this man. This man had given him that coffee and bag of muffins.

Harry nodded carefully, ignoring the twinges of pain in his neck at the action. "The muffin man."

There were snorts of laughter and the muffin man smiled widely at him, Harry looked around confused and worried that he had gotten it wrong, had someone else given him those muffins that day? It seemed like so long ago and he couldn't really remember, had he confused the memory with something or someone else? He made a distressed noise and swallowed around his dry tongue, now that sensation brought back fresher, more painful memories and he flinched violently.

"Calm yourself Harry." The Director coached him. "Perhaps you are remembering the day that Agent Coulson gave you a bag of muffins."

Harry nodded, thankful that someone knew what he was talking about and that he hadn't confused the information with something else.

"Could someone please get Harry a drink of water." The Director ordered, not taking his eye from Harry, it reminded him of Moody somewhat and he felt calmer, more reassured, even if the thought of Moody no longer being around caused his stomach to ache. He had liked the real Moody once he had gotten to know the grizzled, paranoid and grumpy old man who had harshly taught him how to protect himself though any situation.

A polystyrene cup of water was handed to him with a bendy straw and memories of it happening before made him jerk, spilling most of the water over his sheets. He hand spasmed and he dropped the cup in horror at the wet stain, before realising that letting go of the cup made the wetness worse. His entire body flinched as he remembered dropping a china teacup as a child and getting a hard slap to the face for it. His arms automatically rose to protect himself from a blow that never came.

Instead large hands slipped under his arms and cupped his face again; Harry peeked out and lowered his arms, coaching himself to carry on breathing, even if the panic and adrenaline had made his breaths shaky. He wasn't a child anymore, he was twenty years old now, the slap hadn't happened recently, it had happened at the Dursleys. He nodded to himself, the Dursleys couldn't hurt him anymore, couldn't do anything to him anymore, he hadn't seen or heard from them since he was seventeen. He was safe from them now.

"Harry, do you remember what happened to you the day Agent Coulson gave you those muffins in the break room?"

"I was abducted off the street Sir." Harry answered softly.

"What happened then?"

"The worst van journey in history. Someone should really think of putting padding in the backs of those things Sir."

A handful of people snorted, but Harry only had eyes for Fury, whose single eye was shining in amusement and determination, even if his mouth was a thin, straight line.

"Do you remember after that?"

"I was dragged out of the van, it was a really, really long journey, it was already dark, but it was impossible to sleep in the van when I was being thrown around so much. They put me in a chair and secured my wrists and ankles with plastic ties."

"What did they do to you in the chair Harry?"

"They liked punching; it started with my face and chest, but moved onto the sides and back of my head."

"What were they asking?"

"My name to begin with, then they asked where I worked, how old was I, just basic stuff to begin with."

"How long did they hit you for?"

"I don't know, I lost all track of time in that place Sir, I wasn't exactly counting every second."

Harry calmed himself and averted his eyes. He needed to stay calm; he couldn't shout at his superior, the Director no less.

"What did you tell them?" Fury asked as calmly and as patiently as he could.

"Nothing Sir. That's why they moved from my face to the back of my head, I'm sure they thought giving me a concussion would aide them."

"When were you moved from the chair and where were you moved to?"

"I…" Harry stopped and frowned, trying to bring the memories up in a timeline, but it was difficult and confusing.

"Take your time." He was encouraged.

"They moved me the next morning, or at least I think it was morning, the window was boarded up. They dragged me into a steel room opposite the previous room and tied my wrists separately with rope before suspending me from the ceiling until just my toes were on the floor, then they tied my wrists together until my shoulder blades touched."

"What did they do and what did they ask?"

"They started using blades and knives." Harry licked his dry lips as the memory resurfaced; his hand automatically fell to his nipple as a phantom pain spread through it. "That bastard sliced through my nipple!"

Harry looked down and used a hand to pull the hospital gown away from his chest; he frowned at the three stitches going through his left nipple. He swallowed at the amount of stitches he had, dotted around here and there like a grotesque tapestry. The biggest one he could see was on his belly, almost hipbone to hipbone. He flinched violently as the memory of having salt rubbed repeatedly into that particular wound took over and his knee jerked irrepressibly in response to the full body movement.

"Alright, calm down Agent Potter. Tell me what questions you were asked."

"My name. They wanted to know about you and S.H.I.E.L.D Sir, umm…Hydra weapons, they wanted to know where S.H.I.E.L.D was storing the Hydra weapons, they wanted to know about the Avengers Initiative. The most frequently asked question was about the S.H.I.E.L.D undercover base watching the nuclear armaments warehouse, they were desperate to know where that base was."

Fury took his eye from him for the first time since he had started questioning him, to give a pointed look to the muffin man, Agent Coulson, Harry mentally corrected himself, before turning to look back at him.

"What did you tell them Harry? We need to know what you said in order to counteract anything they might do."

"Nothing Sir."

"You told them nothing?"

Harry shook his head, adamantly keeping eye contact with the man to prove he wasn't lying, before a memory came to him that had his eyes widening. He had told them something. Those strong hands tensed on his face, applying just a bit more pressure.

"What did you tell them Potter?"

"My name." He answered softly as he cupped the stitched slit in his belly.

"Your stomach wound was one of the longest and deepest cuts; it had very high traces of salt in it." Fury told him.

Harry flinched and slumped over his belly as much as he could while in so much pain.

"It hurt so badly, even more than the burns and the cuts. Though I think the slice through the nipple hurt the worst, but that happened early on, at the end I was so tired, they hadn't let me sleep for even a minute, every time I closed my eyes, or even if they just thought I was asleep they'd jerk me awake again, they wouldn't give me anything to eat, they controlled how much water I took in, everything I had was beaten down and when they introduced the salt to the belly wound, he asked me my name and I told him, I screamed 'Harry' at him several times. I knew even before I did it that I shouldn't have. Give them an inch and they expect a chasm and they did. They started throwing questions at me, mostly about the base watching the nuclear armaments, and they just kept cutting and adding salt, rubbing it into the wounds to make it worse and it hurt so badly."

"But you told them nothing else, only that your name was Harry?" Fury asked.

"It was the only thing I let slip, I swear it Sir and I'm sorry that I told them my name, I never meant to. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry because the only thing you told them was that your name was Harry? Don't be, older and bigger men than you have spilled their inner most darkest secrets at just the sight of a blade, you have nothing to be sorry for."

Harry perked up a bit at that. "So I can keep my job?"

"If you actually want to be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D still after this, then we'll be happy to have you once you've recovered."

Harry grinned at that and lay back in his bed, determined to recover and get back to work as soon as humanly possible, he wanted to bury his memories and forget that this had ever happened and move on.

"Of course there are two, non-negotiable conditions." Fury told him at the door. "Number one is that you see the agency psychiatrist and the second is that you move into Stark Tower for a while, I won't have you left vulnerable to be abducted again, not until I'm sure the people responsible for this are caught."

Then the Director was gone, leaving him in a room full of people he didn't know, even if he did know their names, to be fussed over by nurses with his stomach heavy and leaden. The very last thing he wanted was to see a psychiatrist and he didn't want to live with a bunch of super heroes either, he wanted his own bed, his own stuff and his own space, but he also wanted his job.

Sighing heavily, Harry allowed the nurses to carefully hook him back up to the IV's he had ripped out in panic, settling back as a doctor came over to check him over, doing all sorts of tests now that he was awake. It didn't last long, he was calm now, he knew where he was, he knew he was safe, as soon as he settled into the pillow he was asleep once again.


A/N: I'm in work tonight now, so the next chapter might not be out until next week some when, I'll look into working on Rise of the Drackens and Lycanthrope Factory too, but I'm sure these first three chapters can tide you all over until then.

Thank you to Noctisis Rrhagia for being the first 100th reviewer for this story.

ptl4ever419: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics are really like their own universe, it's like trying to read a fandom that you know nothing about, the more you read the more you learn. I was given a link to a website that explains it all basically, /wiki/Alpha/Beta/Omega . Everything listed here doesn't related perfectly to this story, as I'm putting my own spin on it, like every write does, but it explains the basics. I hope it helps.

Thank you all for your support of this story! I'm now taking on a challenge where I write a ficlet for all the Avengers (minus Natasha, because I'm not a fan of het) with Harry. So we'll see how that turns out.

StarLight Massacre. X