Mission Ronin: Part One

Summary: Ronin runs into his past. He has a lot of explaining to do.
Warning(s): M/m; Spanking; mentions of violence and murder; references to sexual content; Dominant/submissive; some mild descriptions of caretaking
Pairing: Ethan Hunt/Clint Barton (William Brandt)

###

Clint had been at a loss about what to do when his family had just disappeared off the face of the Earth. When he'd finally connected with Natasha and Steve and learned just what had occurred...learned that there wasn't anything that could be done to reverse it...he'd gone on a grief fueled quest to destroy every crime lord in existence. If they were responsible for hurting innocents, he went after them and exacted his own brand of justice.

It was during one of these vengeance quests that he'd seen him. It had been many years since he'd seen the man. When they'd first met, SHIELD had been looking for information on one of the higher ups in the man's organization. Clint had posed as a bodyguard for the man's wife while trying to get an in, to the organization. When that had (seemingly) gone spectacularly wrong, Clint had figured SHIELD would recall him and send someone else in.

They hadn't. Instead, Clint had spent many years undercover in that alias. Long enough to end up back on the man's team, get the information he'd been looking for, and learn he hadn't screwed up the man's life as badly as he'd thought. When SHIELD finally recalled him, he and the man were more than friends. Sadly, as the relationship was formed by a completely non-existent person, Clint couldn't keep in touch.

He'd been lucky his real identity hadn't been broadcast on the news when the Battle for New York occurred... or when Ultron had happened... or when he'd got pulled into that whole fucked up mess in Germany. He was equally as lucky that the man he was currently staring at hadn't shown up with his team and stuck their noses into any of those messes. Otherwise, he would have been found out.

Frowning slightly, Clint pulled back into the shadows. If having that man find out that William Brandt didn't really exist was undesirable, having him catch Clint as Ronin was even less so. Quickly wiping off his blade on the jacket of the body at his feet, he sheathed his katana and began to run in the opposite direction of Ethan Hunt.

The whole world was a mess. Maybe it had been that way for a long time, but it was just more obvious now... with half of the world's population vanished. By this point, those who had disappeared were considered dead by most... although there were a few who believed there was the chance they'd come back; that they weren't really dead but were just missing. Abducted.

Ethan was more pragmatic. Half of the world's population was gone and there was no sign that they were coming back, or that they ever could come back. And unfortunately, there were still threats that had to be dealt with; threats that the super-powered Avengers, or what was left of them, were unable to handle, since they were dealing with the larger problems.

Which left Ethan and his team to try and clean up the mess in the rest of the world. And right now, that included the assassin who'd been going after all of the crime lords. It wasn't that anyone wanted to protect the crime lords...but IMF got nervous whenever someone was acting outside of their control. So, Ethan and his team had been sent in to capture this Ronin.

Who was now fleeing from the scene.

"I'm going after him." Ethan said the words into the comms, even as he began to run...following the masked assassin. He was older now, but still just as much in shape as he had been the first time he'd gone on these missions. He didn't have any enhancements or abilities...but he had his team. "Keep on his trail," he directed Luther and Benji, as he continued to chase after Ronin.

Clint would have laughed at the situation if he hadn't been so frustrated. Of course, Ethan and his team were here to stop Ronin. Killing bad guys or not, IMF would never allow an unknown to run loose causing havoc, even if the havoc was being caused in the darker underbelly of society. He'd been too focused on vengeance and had forgotten that other organizations might be watching...and decide he was a threat.

It wasn't funny, so why he felt like laughing, he didn't know. Wouldn't it just be his luck, though? To be Clint Barton, member of the Avengers and hero, for years, never discovered or exposed; but the minute he goes dark, he get caught?

Despite wearing a mask, he kept his face away from all cameras and looking down so that any eyes in the sky couldn't do any type of recognition. And he kept running. He wasn't out of shape, exactly; he'd kept up his training as much as possible, but he'd been on house arrest after the Accords fiasco, so he wasn't in top peak condition either. If he couldn't lose Ethan soon, he was in very real risk of being caught by him.

Ethan didn't slow down or let up...although he heard from Ethan and Benji that the assassin he was chasing knew enough to keep his face from being shown to any of the cameras, or eyes in the sky. The form was still easy to pick out...but it was impossible to identify who Ronin was unless Ethan succeeded in capturing him.

Maybe Clint's luck had finally run out after years of pushing the edge. Maybe he just wanted to be caught so it would be over. He wasn't really giving it that much thought, though, and all it took was glancing over his shoulder at just the wrong moment while crossing the road. One minute, he was flying through town; the next, he was flying over the hood of a taxi. The only reason he wasn't killed, or injured worse, was because he knew how to land a fall. Even so, he felt when his leg broke and knew he was caught.

Ethan winced slightly when he heard the crack of bone breaking, but he didn't hesitate or pause. Instead, he followed Ronin...managing to dodge the vehicles. It didn't take long before he had the assassin pinned to the ground, a knee in his back. "Stay down," he ground out...in case Ronin had any more tricks up his sleeve.

Clint might be reckless, but he wasn't stupid. The only thing fighting now would get him was more injury. If he cooperated, they'd at least set his leg, which would avoid complications further down the road. He lay still under Ethan, not struggling at all. He grimaced slightly as the non-masked areas of his face pressed into pavement, but he didn't voice a complaint. He only shifted minutely as a memory of another time Ethan had been over him, on top of him, pinning him in place, inappropriately wormed its way into his head. Luckily, the situation wasn't conducive to arousal. It was going to be difficult enough facing his ex-lover under these circumstances without sporting a raging hard-on.

"I've got him." Ethan spoke the words quickly into the comms. "But he's broken a leg. He'll need medical attention before we question him." He gripped Clint's wrists tightly behind him. "You're not going to be able to run away on that leg, but I can support you enough to get to a safehouse."

Clint grunted softly, as having his arms pulled behind him caused more of his weight to rest on his face and chest. He continued to lay still, though. There wasn't a question in Ethan's statement, and he'd prefer not to talk until it couldn't be avoided. He had no doubt Ethan could tell who he was just by his voice.

The rest of Ethan's team had evidently been close. Soon, Clint could hear car doors slam and footfalls moving rapidly in his and Ethan's direction. "He looks to be a little under 200 pounds...thin, but obviously fit..." an unknown female was saying to Ethan, though Clint couldn't figure out why that mattered. Until he felt the jab in his neck. Son of a... And then he was out cold, unable to finish the thought.

As soon as he could be certain that Clint was out cold, Ethan moved to carefully lift the man into his arms. "He's going to need his leg set," he said. It wasn't as if IMF wouldn't use force, even torture, to get the answers they wanted...but that wasn't Ethan's way. Not unless he wasn't given any other choice.

"Of course," Ilsa agreed. "I've already contacted a nearby doctor who works with us and knows how to keep his mouth shut," she added, as she opened the van door for Ethan to get in with their prisoner, before moving to get into the passenger seat. Soon, the van was peeling away from the scene of the accident before local law enforcement could arrive and hinder them.

As soon as he was settled with the prisoner, making sure Ronin wouldn't be injured worse, Ethan reached out to remove the mask...and then a wave of nausea hit him. A feeling of deep, intense pain, because he hadn't expected.... "Brandt." He whispered the name of his ex-lover out loud.

With William Brandt's disappearance, Ethan had assumed he'd been taken along with half of the world's population. It had hurt and he'd grieved...but he'd thrown himself into his work, into carrying out the missions. He'd forced himself to accept the loss of the man he loved.

And yet Brandt was here. He hadn't disappeared. And he wasn't dead.

But he'd gone rogue.

"What? That's not..." Ilsa's eyes were huge as she took in Brandy's features. "But he wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off, as it was clear he obviously had. It was something she never would have expected of the by the book agent.

"Hospital first. Then answers," Ethan said shortly.

"Oh... We aren't going to the hospital. Too much chance of Ronin escaping. The doctor is meeting us at the safe house..." Ilsa stated. "It has a bed with restraints. We don't have any extra clothing." She eyed the torn material of Clint's outfit; it had done its job protecting him but hadn't fared well in the battle against the road.

"We can worry about new clothing later," Ethan commented. At the moment, new clothing wasn't high on his list of priorities. Getting answers and figuring out why Brandt had turned rogue were his priorities...right under getting the broken leg and any other injuries treated.

"Could just leave him naked." Ilsa smirked. "Between that and the broken leg, he'd be less likely to try and escape." Plus, she remembered how Brandt and Ethan had been before Brandt disappeared. The less clothes Brandt wore, the more docile and submissive to Ethan he became. If that hadn't changed, then Brandt being completely naked could give Ethan a huge advantage in getting answers.

Ethan snorted softly. "Like I said. We can worry about clothes later. Much later." He agreed with her assessment without outright saying the words. Of course, he had no idea what else Brandt had been hiding from him. Maybe everything had been a lie.

"Almost there... And the doctor texted to say he is ten minutes out. We'll have just enough time to cut his clothes off and clean him up so I the doctor can examine him..." Ilsa said. That they could restrain him properly before the doctor arrived was left unsaid.

Ethan just nodded, choosing not to make any verbal comments. When they reached the safehouse, though, he carried the unconscious man out of the vehicle carefully...more carefully than was strictly necessary, but still. He'd formed a relationship with this man. No one could really fault him for caring, at least a little.

Ilsa held the door open for him, giving a sympathetic look. If she felt shocked and betrayal finding out who Ronin was, she couldn't imagine how Ethan felt. She began doing everything necessary to help Ethan and make this situation easier.

****

The first thing Clint noticed when he began to wake was that his leg didn't hurt. The second thing he noticed was that he smelled of soap and antiseptic. The third thing he noticed was that he was completely naked under a thin sheet; naked except for restraints on his wrists and at least one ankle, anyway. Possibly both ankles, if they found a restraint that fit around the cast, he now realized encased his leg. Swallowing, he slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes.

Ethan hadn't moved from the prisoner's side, even after the treatment had been completed. He sat next to the bed, staring at Brandt's unconscious form...like he would find the answers there. Like the unconscious body of his ex-lover would tell him why Brandt had disappeared for so long. Why he'd allowed Ethan and the rest of the team to believe he was among the taken for so long.

Clint swallowed again, his mouth suddenly dry as he saw Ethan sat beside him. He didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what to say. Instead, he tried to figure out what Ethan was thinking or feeling by looking at his face and into his eyes. Maybe he'd get some clue on what to do.

"So." Ethan paused, keeping his face a calm, blank mask. It wasn't easy; he felt hurt, betrayed, let down. But he'd had plenty of practice hiding his real emotions, and he drew on that experience now. "You aren't dead. And you weren't taken like half of the world's population. Was it always your intention to go rogue? Or did you just take advantage of all the chaos to do that?"

Clint winced before forcing his own mask into place. "Those are fair questions..." He cleared his throat and swallowed again. "It wasn't planned. And I didn't take advantage of the chaos. The chaos did play a large part in my deciding to do it, though...." He spoke the truth. Lies would gain him nothing and there was no reason to lie. Not anymore.

"Why?" Ethan asked. "You had to know you couldn't stay under the radar forever. Not with what you were doing and who you were taking out. So why do it? If they'd had any connections to you, we would have found them."

Clint's face wobbled as the grief and anger he'd struggled with every moment, since his sister-in-law and niece and nephews dusted and blew away in the wind, caused the mask to falter... And then he took a breath, and it was back in place. The only evidence left that he was hiding deep pain was the sheen of unfallen tears in his eyes. "I had... retired. Was living with my brother's widow. My niece and nephews. All four of them just... Gone. And me... With every fucked-up thing I've ever done wrong in my life, still wearing a damn monitor from being on house arrest... I was still there and breathing. It was wrong. That innocents were gone and the evil shits who hurt others and made the world a worse place we're still there." Clint finally looked away from Ethan, looking down at the sheet that covered him.

It might have been easy to believe that the other man was lying. After all, William Brandt had no family...none that could be found by IMF, after all. And if they'd existed, Benji and Luther would have found them. But they hadn't.

And yet Brandt wasn't lying. The emotions were real. Ethan would have bet everything he had on it. Which meant.... "William Brandt wasn't real, then. Just an identity you put on. Because Brandt has...had...no family. I looked. When I thought you'd been taken, along with so many others."

Clint didn't know why hearing it put like that shamed him. He'd been undercover. He'd taken on numerous identities and lied about who he was to countless people in his career with SHIELD. He'd slept with nearly as many of those lied to people as he had aliases. Of course, he'd actually cared about Ethan. And he hadn't been investigating Ethan, just the IMF. Ethan was a good agent and, more so, a good man. Hearing Ethan's words... It didn't feel good. His face flushed from shame, and he continued to stare at his sheet covered legs.

"Clint... Clint Barton..." he finally offered, in a hoarse whisper. He knew Benji was likely looking up every bit of information he could find now. There wouldn't be a lot. Even when Natasha put all of SHIELD's files out where everyone could see, Clint's files were somehow erased before the information was dumped. But there was enough that they could at least know Clint Barton was a real person.

Whether Ethan would believe he was Clint Barton was something else entirely.

Ethan frowned at the response. There wasn't a lot of information about Clint Barton, but there was enough to know the man was dangerous...skilled...an Avenger. The first two, Brandt had been, despite being behind a desk for so long. Looking at the man now, Ethan didn't find it all that difficult to believe his identity. "I'd think you were lying about that, but I saw your handiwork as Ronin." He shook his head. "You're a spy...you were spying. On me? On my team?"

"On IMF. There were rumors... Someone at the top was doing things they shouldn't. I was placed as your wife's bodyguard because it was an easy in. When.... When everything went down, they moved me into the office... Then you got mixed up in that stuff and I got dragged back to your team." Clint smiled sadly. "To keep my cover, I had to stay with you, but I wasn't spying on you or the team. You and your team were the best part of that identity..." he ended softly. He didn't say it was because he loved Ethan. He knew the man would never believe that.

"Everything you said to us...everything you claimed to be...was a lie." Ethan did his best to hide it, but a slither of pain still crept into his voice. He'd trusted William Brandt...had let the other man in closer than anyone else. And it had all been a lie. Try as he might, he couldn't hide it completely.

"I... the facts were a lie..." Clint admitted unhappily. His feelings hadn't been, but given how everything else had been, he knew telling Ethan that wouldn't matter.

Ethan drew in a deep breath and stood up. He needed a few minutes away from the man he'd fallen in love with; the one who'd lied about everything. It was too painful to stay here and be reminded of what he'd lost. "I need to take a breather," he muttered. "You've got a button next to your bed. If you need anything...pain meds or food or water...one of the team will bring it."

"Okay..." Clint whispered, tired and feeling heartsick. He'd just been doing his job. But after... When he'd retired and was on house arrest... He should have contacted Ethan and come clean. At least then... Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference, but it would have been better to have Ethan hear because he'd chosen to tell the truth than because he'd been caught. Turning to face the wall, he closed his eyes and tried to think of what to do.

Leaving the room, Ethan leaned back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in deeply. He knew what he should do. He was too close to this...too close to Clint. He needed to hand the man over to IMF and let them decide what to do.

But he couldn't. Because he still cared. And he shouldn't, because all of it was a lie. Clint had admitted that himself. So, Ethan was a fool if he didn't do the sensible thing.

But how could he let Clint go again?

Ilsa walked up and leaned against the wall opposite Ethan. "So, what he told you in there is the truth. Clint Barton, the mysterious Avenger we knew of but never saw. Had a widowed sister-in-law, a niece and two nephews that disappeared when half the world disappeared. He was living on their farm under house arrest for participating in that mess in Germany a few years back. When they disappeared, he took off and managed to keep under everyone's radar. Well, except for the whole vigilante killing spree. But other than us catching him in the act, they don't have any proof it is him. If we turn him over, they'll execute him. And as bad as it is... Do we want him to die for it?'

Ethan sighed and rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "He's been lying to us...hiding the truth...lying to me...since day one. I don't doubt that he's Clint Barton, the Avenger. I don't think he was lying in there. But I don't know if it's the right thing to shield him from the consequences of what he's done. Our relationship wasn't real. I don't know Clint Barton. Not like I knew William Brandt."

"Yeah..." Ilsa sighed. "Maybe... shield him from being executed; it doesn't feel right having him be killed for protecting innocent people, even if his methods are wrong. But don't shield him from consequences."

Ethan snorted softly. "I hand him over to IMF, the only consequences are execution or imprisonment." And neither option sat well with him. He sighed. "I need some time. He can't go anywhere right now. Not with the way his leg is. I have time to think...."

Ilsa nodded. "You do that. Benji, Luther and I can take care of him."

"Yeah." Ethan sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. "I told him where the button is, if he needs anything before he's checked on." He didn't glance back towards the room Clint was in before he walked away, heading to his own room so that he could be alone with his thoughts.

***

It had been two days since he'd seen Ethan; which, if Clint were honest with himself, hurt. He had no right for it to hurt; he'd lied to the man for years, so it shouldn't surprise him Ethan wanted nothing to do with him. It still hurt.

The other three members of the team came in to check on him every hour, questioning him on anything from if he'd caught the target in IMF he'd been sent to discover, to what his favorite ice cream was ("Mint chip," "Oh... Just like Brandt!"). It was embarrassing that any time he needed the bed pan or to be bathed, it was Ilsa that helped him. Not because it was a woman helping him; if it had been that he would be embarrassed no matter who helped him. It was embarrassing because when she helped him with the personal hygiene, her questions always became very personal.

"So, you submitted to Ethan when you were pretending. We all knew. Was that a lie too, or do you really prefer to have someone in charge?" Her gaze narrowed and her smile reminded Clint of a shark who sensed blood.

Clint scowled. "Does it matter?!" he snapped, not wanting to think about the question. He hadn't ever wanted to think about how natural it was to submit to Ethan when the older man required it. He'd tried to tell himself it was just his role. It was just William Brandt. He knew it was another lie; just this time, it was one he told himself.

"I guess not. You pretended to love him; it wouldn't be hard to pretend to submit." Ilsa shrugged. She was watching him closely, though and saw the pain on his face when she said he'd pretended to love. Saw the unhappy wistfulness. She didn't say anything, but if she was inclined to bet, she'd have bet that Clint loving Ethan wasn't a lie.

Sighing, she finished bathing him and pulled the sheet back up to cover him. "Benji will bring your dinner in an hour." She smiled, picking up the basin and soiled washcloths to take to the laundry.

"When will I get some clothes?" Clint blurted out, before she could leave.

Ilsa's smile turned sharklike again. "When Ethan decides you're a good enough boy we can trust you won't try to escape if you have clothes." She left.

***

Ethan had kept his distance for two days, letting the rest of the team deal with Clint...although each one had reported to him the questions they'd asked and the answers they'd received. The problem was, he was no closer to deciding what his next step was...what his next step should be.

Actually, no. That was a lie. He knew what he wanted his next step to be. He wanted to protect Clint, as much as he'd wanted to protect William. He was still attracted to the other man, despite learning that Clint had been a spy from day one. Despite the fact that William Brandt and their relationship had been a lie, he still had feelings for the other man.

But his feelings meant nothing. Not after all of the lies and the deceit and the betrayal.

Sighing quietly, Ethan finally returned to Clint's room. He walked over and sat next to the bed, surveying the other man for a few moments. "You know that, if we turn you over to IMF, they'll either execute you or imprison you." He started with that because he needed Clint to know how much trouble...how much danger...he was in. And he needed Clint to know what Ethan was risking for himself and the rest of the team if he didn't hand Clint over to the IMF.

Clint swallowed and nodded. "I know. I also know that it's my own fault. You should protect yourself. Protect the team. Turn me over. I might get lucky, and they send me to the Raft again." His smile was bitter.  He knew Steve had only been able to get them out with Tony's help, even if neither of the other men admitted it. He'd only got the offer of house arrest, instead of having to run like Steve and the others, because Tony had pulled strings. But Tony had been broken when he lost the spider kid... He wouldn't be there to help Clint a third time.

"I haven't decided what to do yet," Ethan admitted quietly. "I wouldn't have hesitated if it had been Brandt. If you had been Brandt. But I knew Brandt. I loved Brandt. I don't know Clint Barton at all."

Clint winced at that, suddenly overcome with a hopeless, sad, guilty regret. He was unable to stop the resultant tears from falling down his face. "I know you won't believe me... Can't believe me.... but William Brandt and Clint Barton are as close to the same person as it was possible to be. Yeah. I lied about every single fact about me. But for the things that actually make me, me? That wasn't a lie. Loving you wasn't a lie..." His voice was rough and tight because he was trying not to cry.

Because that was the biggest problem of all, wasn't it? He had truly fallen in love with Ethan Hunt. But Ethan Hunt loved William Brandt, not Clint Barton. It didn't matter in the end that he'd been truthful about the most important parts of himself because he'd lied. It was why, after he'd been recalled and reassigned, he didn't try and contact Ethan to explain. What could be said or done to make his actions okay? Nothing.

"Don't risk yourself for me. I'm not worth it..." he muttered, hopeless guilt heavy in his tone. He tried shifting as much as the restraints would allow so that his back was to Ethan. He still had his pride and couldn't let the other man watch him cry. He'd already seen the results of him losing himself when he caught Ronin.

Ethan breathed in deeply, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his hand over his face, suddenly feeling tired. "You can't understand how much I want to believe that," he whispered. "How much I want to believe that our relationship, how we felt about each other, wasn't just an act you put on to sell your role." He glanced away, unable to hide the pain in his voice, or the tears in his own eyes. "It's too late to tell me not to put myself at risk for your sake." His voice was a low, haunted whisper.

He'd made his decision already. Hadn't he? The first moment he'd seen Ronin's face and taken Clint to the safe house, rather than turn him over to the IMF.

Ethan stood up, not sure he could allow himself to break down in here. Not sure if he could let his emotions overwhelm him. He wanted to believe Clint, so badly...but how could he be sure?

Clint remained facing away from Ethan, eyes screwed tightly shut as tears leaked out, holding his breath because the minute he breathed, he was going to start sobbing.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Ethan slowly moved over to the bed once more and sat down. He reached out and placed a hand on Clint's shoulder, squeezing it.

At the gentle touch, Clint lost control. The first tiny sob squeezed out of his throat and then he was fully sobbing, unable to stop. He'd lost everything. Being reminded of what he'd done to Ethan was too much.

It was hard...difficult...impossible to ignore Clint crying. Ethan didn't even try. He wrapped both arms around the other man and held on tight. The restraints made actually pulling Clint into his arms, like he would have before, difficult, but he managed it fairly well.

Clint just cried. It was pointless to try and keep it in now; he'd broken in front of Ethan. The older man already knew he was messed up inside. This would just confirm it. The fact Ethan offered comfort, though? It hurt as much as it helped. He didn't deserve the comfort. "I'm sorry..." He finally calmed enough to apologize. Ethan could think it was for breaking down. Clint would know it was for everything.

"You've been through a lot," Ethan said quietly. "That kind of reaction is understandable." He didn't let go of Clint, part of him wanting and needing to hold onto the other man for as long as Clint allowed.

Clint finally calmed the rest of the way, sniffling and trying not to rub his face on the pillow. Being restrained made it impossible to wipe his eyes or nose and he was a mess. He relaxed slowly as he realized Ethan was still providing comfort that he didn't deserve. "You should hate me..." he whispered sadly. "I don't know how I could ever prove myself to you or be believed. But my love for you was never a lie. I should have come clean long ago. I was a coward and told myself it wouldn't make a difference. That you were better off never hearing from me again. But I should have told you the truth before disappearing. You deserved the truth."

Ethan wrapped his arms a bit tighter around Clint. "I don't hate you. I can't. Even though you lied to me about your real identity, I still love you. I never stopped." He could tell that Clint needed to wipe his eyes and nose and he picked up a tissue from the box on the side. Carefully and gently, he began to wipe Clint's nose and eyes.

Clint blinked back more tears and let out an embarrassed, huffy laugh at being taken care of like a toddler. He didn't fight it, though, blowing his nose when directed and being as cooperative as possible. "I wish I could make it better... Wish I knew how to make it so you could trust me again..." he whispered. "I really am sorry...."

"I know what I would have done before," Ethan said quietly. "Of course, you were submissive to me before." Clint might have indicated the love wasn't a lie, but that didn't mean he still wanted to submit.

Clint looked into Ethan's face at that. "It was an act before... But... It still felt more natural to submit to you than not submit. I don't know if that means I'm actually a closet submissive, or if it was just because it was you I was submitting to, though." He tried to be as honest as possible, even though he wasn't certain of what the truth actually was. And he answered Ethan. Unlike Ilsa, who Clint owed a lot to, but not answers about that. He blushed at admitting submitting to Ethan felt natural.

"Thank you for being honest with me," Ethan said quietly. "In our relationship before, I wouldn't have hesitated to physically punish you for your choices and actions. I would have spanked you," he said.

 Clint swallowed at that, giving Ethan a sad look. "I would have deserved it..." he admitted. Of course, now everything had changed. He deserved worse.

"My feelings for you haven't changed," Ethan said quietly.

Clint's lower lip wobbled, and he had to bite it to hold it still. "W... Would that let you trust me? Just a tiny bit? I know it wouldn't make everything okay, but if it... If you were able to trust me just enough, I could try to start making things right...." He didn't try and hide the desperation or hope in his voice. Leaving Ethan the way he had had never felt right... Sat right... But he hadn't seen any other options. Facing the other man now, with all the wrong he'd done between them... he couldn't just leave again, but the only way he could stay was if Ethan made it possible.

"I think it would help," Ethan admitted quietly. "I don't want you to leave again. I don't want you to leave me again. But there needs to be a consequence." Even if he wasn't prepared to hand Clint over to the IMF.

"Please... Tell me what to do..." Clint begged.

"You don't have to do anything apart from cooperate and not fight." Gently rubbing his hands down Clint's back, Ethan leaned over to undo the restraints.

Clint sniffled but held still as the restraints were removed. He didn't even rub his wrists. He was being punished. He deserved discomfort and pain. He stayed exactly as he was, even when he was finally able to move, waiting for Ethan's directions or permission.

Ethan might be about to spank Clint, but that didn't mean he planned to harm or make Clint's injuries worse. It took a few minutes, but he was able to position Clint across his lap, pillows placed in such a way that they were supporting his broken leg.

Clint shivered as he was positioned. During his op, when he was William Brandt, he might have been submissive, but he'd never actually been punished by Ethan. His role had been that of an uptight, by the rules guy, so more often than not, he was either talking Ethan out of doing something career ending or obeying immediately. Being positioned over the older man's lap gave him the same feeling of submissive dependence obeying had. Even though he couldn't honestly say he wanted a spanking, it was a relief to have that choice out of his hands and relying on Ethan to choose what happened to him. A relief to know that he'd be paying at least a little for what he'd done wrong. A relief that he... could submit again.

Ethan took a few moments to gently rub Clint's back. He kept that hand in place, still gently rubbing, even as he lifted his other hand and brought it down in a firm smack at the crest of Clint's right buttock. He then delivered a matching swat to the other side.

Clint let out a tiny whimper as sharp pain blossomed on his backside. It wasn't that it was unbearable pain that drew the reaction. It was the fact it was Ethan causing the pain. The man he loved, who he had hurt so badly, was causing him a small amount of pain to try and heal the rift Clint had created. He felt himself responding by giving up. The only way he could return to Ethan and have everything start to be okay was if Ethan allowed. Ethan was in control. For the first time in a very long time, Clint felt safe, despite receiving a spanking. He slumped over Ethan's lap and didn't even squirm, though he did clench in anticipation of the smacks. And he whimpered and whined. It did hurt, even if it wasn't unbearable and was deserved.

Wrapping his other arm around Clint's waist, drawing him close and tight against his stomach, Ethan settled quickly into a pattern of swats, working over every inch of Clint's bottom down to mid-thigh before he started over again from the top.

Tears began streaming from Clint's eyes not more than halfway through the first circuit. He was trying to submit and not hide anything, so when his body began to shift from the sting, he didn't fight it. Still, he remained in position and as loose and accepting as it was possible to be. His breathing began to hitch as the sting built up. His guilt was bubbling to the surface, and he didn't fight that either. "Sorry I lied... Sorry I hid for so long... Sorry was so horrible..." he babbled in repentance.

"I believe you." Ethan spoke softly, in stark contrast to the harder smacks he started as he began the third circuit. "I believe you're sorry. And I forgive you. For all of it. For everything. I love you, Clint."

"Love you... Always have done... Wasn't lying 'bout that..." Clint's voice was small but earnest, desperate for Ethan to believe that truth. As Ethan began a third circuit, swatting harder, he began to squirm. He still wasn't fighting; it was obviously done because the punishment was doing its job. Tiny, choked sobs escaped and he didn't try and hide those either. Ethan deserved to see his reactions. Deserved to see that he was affected. Deserved to bring him low and put him in his place.

Ethan wrapped his arm tighter, more firmly around Clint's waist, so that his squirming wouldn't damage his leg any further. At the same time, he began to swat faster...abandoning the previous methodical pattern to deliver swats in random spots all over Clint's bottom and thighs.

Unable to prepare in even the slightest for where the swats would land, or when, took away what tiny little bit of control Clint had. Ethan was fully in control. Letting out a soft, heartbroken wail, Clint slumped boneless over Ethan's lap to accept the punishment without even a twitch, the broken crying a catharsis for all the poison that had been building inside. He needed to have Ethan take over, to hold him accountable, to punish him thoroughly. He needed to give up, to have it hurt enough that he felt punished, to cry it all out. Even if it made him weak and pathetic. He needed to be Ethan's again. Sobbing quietly over Ethan's lap, limp and accepting of every smack, Clint could only hope Ethan would continue long enough that he could be forgiven and taken back.

It was hard to force himself to continue past the point Clint had given up, but Ethan finished with a final flurry of swats to Clint's sit spots and thighs. Then, he carefully moved the other man into his arms, cuddling him tightly.

Clint clung to Ethan, desperate for forgiveness and to be close to the older man again. It had been so long. Too long. "I'm sorry..." He sobbed softly. "...Please... forgive me... I'm sorry...."

"I forgive you. I love you. You're my world still," Ethan whispered, cuddling Clint tightly.

Hearing the words and being held close helped Clint calm down considerably, though he still clung to Ethan, as if afraid the other man would disappear.

Ilsa found them like that when she slipped into the room five minutes later. It had been hard, seeing and hearing Clint be punished. She was pretty sure Ethan had forgotten the camera was there. None of them had enjoyed watching their once colleague breaking down and had only continued watching in case Clint was a better actor than they'd thought and he took the opportunity to attack Ethan and escape. Clearing her throat, she gave Ethan an apologetic smile and held up a towel. "Since you've decided restraints are no longer needed, he can actually go into the bathroom and take care of things, instead of using a bedpan and me cleaning him up." She dropped the towel on a nearby chair, along with a trash bag. "You can take care of him now, yeah? Wrap the trash bag around the cast to keep it dry."

Clint flushed.

Ethan nodded, not so much as loosening his hold on Clint. "I'll take care of him." Holding on a bit tighter, almost possessively, he added, "We're not turning him over to IMF." He was reasonably sure none of them would argue with him, but he was putting it out there anyway. He didn't know if Clint planned to rejoin the team, or needed to take on other responsibilities, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

"Already anticipated and have informed IMF that Ronin escaped after attacking an ex-agent who had come to share information with us. Said agent is recuperating at the safe house with us and will give his information once you have deemed it safe for him to do so..." Ilsa smirked. "Benji and Luther corroborated. And made sure any footage that might have contradicted me has been erased from all cameras everywhere."

"Thank you." Holding Clint a bit tighter, Ethan murmured, "We don't have to worry about IMF now."

"Ronin won't come back..." Clint whispered, snuggling closer to Ethan. "Not 'less you need him...."

Ilsa smiled. "Shall I have Benji turn off the cameras?"

Ethan nodded. "I don't think we need them on any longer," he replied. "I trust Clint." The truth and sincerity in his words were obvious.

"Enjoy yourself..." Ilsa teased with a nod, before leaving. She knew Benji would have turned off the surveillance as soon as Ethan said he wanted it off.

"Thank you..." Clint whispered, snuggling closer.

Kissing the top of his head, Ethan murmured, "You submitted to punishment...to discipline. I believe you. And I trust you. And like I said...I never stopped loving you. Thinking I'd lost you when half of the world was gone was torture," he admitted hoarsely.

Clint relaxed into Ethan's arms. "Needed to submit. Missed you for so long... Finally feel whole again...."

Gently resting his hand against Clint's cheek, Ethan turned the other man's face towards him and kissed him; lightly and tentatively.

It was second nature to open up for Ethan. For all William Brandt was a lie, making love to Ethan had been the only time he could be truthful. He gave everything he could so that Ethan could feel that.

Ethan relaxed as Clint opened up for him. In response, he pressed deeper into the kiss...letting his tongue push gently against the other man's lips. His hands rubbed gently down Clint's back; not sexual or demanding, but because he desperately needed to touch Clint; to feel that he finally had the man he loved back with him.

Clint opened his lips, accepting Ethan's tongue with a tiny sigh of relief. He'd known he missed Ethan terribly, but until he was back in the other man's arms, where he belonged, he hadn't realized how unstable he'd felt. He should have known. He would never have become Ronin if he'd been by Ethan's side.

Ethan continued to kiss, deeply and intensely...but even when he pulled back to finally breathe, he still held onto Clint. "I love you. So much," he breathed. "I didn't realize how much until you weren't with me anymore."

"Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life," Clint whispered. "And I've made a lot of bad mistakes..." His tone was rueful. He leaned his forehead against Ethan's shoulder.

Ethan tightened his embrace and kissed Clint's shoulder. "I know you're an Avenger. I know you have other responsibilities. But now that I know, even if you have to rejoin them, I'll be in a better position to help you." In an ideal world, Ethan would have preferred to keep Clint with him all the time. But realistically, with the responsibilities his lover might face, he knew that the ideal might not occur.

"The Avengers... I don't know that I could be with them after everything. They'd want me, but there are the Accords, and I'm still technically supposed to be under house arrest and... Everything is just so messed up...." Clint's voice caught.

"I don't think anyone's going to be enforcing anything like house arrest now," Ethan said quietly. "But in any case, you'll always have a place with me, and the rest of the team. No matter what happens."

"Thank you." Clint's voice was rough, and he pressed close to Ethan again.

"I love you," Ethan said simply, just hugging Clint tighter.

"I love you too," Clint whispered, snuggling. "Can... Can we be like before?" he asked hopefully. Just because Ethan had forgiven him and taken him back didn't mean he wanted to return to the way things had been.

"I want that," Ethan said softly. "I want us to be like we were before. I love you. I need you. So much."

Clint visibly relaxed at that, melting against Ethan. "When I first submitted to you...told myself it was just because that's what Brandt would do. Wasn't sure until you spanked me now, as myself, but... I need that with you. Feels safer... More secure. And it's something that only belongs to you. Don't feel the need with anyone else."

"I'm glad," Ethan said quietly. "Because I need it with you too. I need to take care of you. To dominate you. But even if you didn't need it, I would still need you and love you," he admitted.

Clint smiled at that, his hug tightening at the words. "Belong with you... To you... Dunno if I'm fit to work with you anymore... Even once my leg heals. But... The farm can be a safe spot that only you know about. It can be home for you, and I'll be there waiting for you. And if I ever am fit to work again... It can still be a safe place..." Clint suggested.

Ethan nodded. "You'll always have a place on the team, if you ever decide you can take it," he promised. "But outside of that happening, we'll be together as much as we can be. And even if I'm out on missions, there are secure lines we can use."

Clint nodded before kissing Ethan. "Glad you caught me..." he whispered. "I shouldn't have run. I missed you so much and need you so much. Was just...ashamed. Of what I did to you. What I became. Knew you wouldn't like it..." He kissed him again.

Ethan kissed back, gently cupping the back of Clint's head. "You're with me now," he murmured against his lover's lips. "And I won't let you lose yourself again. No matter what happens."

"Counting on that..." Clint said. "I've got some really bad habits when I lose myself..." he said ruefully.

"I noticed." Wrapping his arms around Clint's waist, Ethan said, "I don't think the spanking is going to be a one-time thing."

"Yeah. I messed up bad..." Clint admitted, nuzzling Ethan's shoulder.

"But you're forgiven. And even if you mess up again, you'll be forgiven then too." Ethan kissed the side of Clint's neck.

Clint slanted his head to give Ethan better access. "I'll do my best for you... Even if I mess up, I'll try to make you proud..." he promised.

"I know you will. I believe you will." Ethan began to trail a row of kisses along Clint's neck. "You're mine," he whispered.

Clint moaned softly. "I am. Forever..." he whispered. "Take me?" There was a hopeful lilt in the question.

"What about your leg?" Ethan asked softly.

Clint winced, then sighed. "Yeah. Guess that does make it difficult.... Raincheck?" He grinned impishly.

"Of course." Kissing him, Ethan added, "And it'll be even better for waiting."

Clint kissed back. "Can... Can I get dressed? I want to apologize to the others. And Ilsa's seen my butt entirely too many times the last two days..." He blushed.

Ethan nodded. "We don't have any of your clothes here, but you're welcome to wear some of mine. At least until we can pick you up some."

"I've always liked your clothes," Clint teased.

Smiling, Ethan commented, "Then it's just as well I have them with me." He let go of Clint, only long enough to go and retrieve the clothing. Then, when he returned, it was second nature to begin dressing his submissive. After all, he'd done that before.

Clint's smile grew bigger, brighter, and fonder as Ethan dressed him. "This is nice," he said softly. "Just being with you, under your control... Feels like I'm finally home. If you pinned me to the ground now, I'd definitely get a hard on..." he semi-joked, alluding to how close it had been when Ethan caught him.

"Well, it might not be safe to pin you to the ground now...but once your leg is healed...." Ethan's voice was filled with promise. He let his hand rest against Clint's cheek, thumb gently stroking over the other man's lips.

"I'd point out that you pinned me earlier and I was in worse shape then, so I could take it now, but I know you didn't know it was me, or that I wouldn't hurt you or the others... So, I won't argue or beg. Much..." Clint grinned crookedly, before kissing the corner of Ethan's mouth. "Help me walk out to see the others?"

"Yeah, you don't need me to tell you I won't be doing anything that will aggravate your injury." Ethan carefully helped Clint to stand, supporting his lover's weight, and kissed him tenderly. "When you're healed," he promised, before helping Clint out of the room.

***

Clint was able to make his apologies and make things right with the rest of the team. There was only a little teasing. They were all too happy that he was back with them, and that Ethan had pulled him off the destructive path he was on. They'd eaten dinner, watched a movie, and talked. But eventually, Clint was yawning and leaning heavily on Ethan.

"I think someone needs their shower and then bed," Ilsa muttered in amusement, after Clint started nodding off for the third time in as many minutes.

"I think you're right," Ethan agreed. He snaked his arm around Clint's waist and kissed the other man's cheek. "Come on. I'll wrap the cast up, so it doesn't get wet." He helped his lover up.

"G'night, ev'one..." Clint smiled and gave a small wave, leaning heavily on Ethan. He wasn't ashamed to accept the help.

Ethan gave Clint a quick kiss before he led the other man from the room, heading to his own...since that had an adjoining shower to it. He began to strip Clint off his clothing, even as he spoke. "I figured, unless you decide you don't want to, you can share my bed. We might not be having sex until you're healed, but I need to keep you physically close," he said honestly.

"You didn't even have to ask," Clint said softly, feeling warm and loved and cared about in a way he hadn't felt for too long. "I need to be held by you for as long and as often as you are willing."

As soon as Clint was naked, Ethan led him into the shower and began to leisurely wash his lover's body. The more he took control and took over the man he loved, the calmer and more settled he felt. He needed to take care of Clint...even though there was nothing sexual in it.

Eventually, they were out of the shower and Ethan was carefully drying off the other man. He didn't bother dressing either of them in pajamas. He needed the closeness of skin-on-skin contact...so he left both of them naked as he settled them both into bed, wrapping his arms around Clint in a tight hug. "I love you. So much," he whispered.

Clint snuggled close, putting his head on Ethan's chest. "I love you too... So much."   Having Ethan take care of him so personally...so completely... left Clint with a sense of belonging and dependency that he had never felt with anyone else. He needed that. It allowed him to relax. The skin-on-skin contact soothed him and quickly pulled him to sleep.

It didn't take long for Ethan to follow his lover into sleep, holding Clint tightly, finally at peace in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

The End