Rough Day

This is a fix-it fic.

DO NOT READ THIS if you have not yet seen Age of Ultron.

Bookmark it, go see the movie, and THEN come back and read it. You'll feel better.

I am also strongly considering (have started making notes for) a fic called Alternative Ultron, which will be everything that, in my humble opinion, SHOULD have happened in the movie. Because I think Whedon fucked up in many, many ways. I'm not saying I hated the movie. I watched it twice, I smiled, I laughed, I walked away having enjoyed myself. But the more I think about it, the more I go UGH, NO.

The question is, should I bother? Would you be interested in reading it if I wrote that? I won't do it until there's a full transcript for Age of Ultron out, which I can't find on the Net yet. If you would like to read my take on how Ultron SHOULD have gone down, please leave me a comment below. If I get 50+ people who would genuinely like to read it, I'll write it. If I get 100+ people… I'll write it quicker ;)

"Rough… day." Clint collapsed to lie beside the body of young Maximoff. He hurt. Like hell. Sore and bleeding from a dozen small wounds, but none of them would kill him. The kid had saved his life. Clint lay staring at the blond speedster, grieving for the young life snuffed out too soon.

A soft whoosh made him look up. Vision was coming in to land – and how the hell the guy was flying, without any visible means of propulsion, was something Clint couldn't quite deal with thinking about at the moment – with the girl in his arms.

"Oh, fuck, this ain't gonna be good." Clint struggled to push himself back up to a sitting position.

Vision set Wanda down almost tenderly, and she went to her knees beside her brother's body, tears falling from her eyes onto his still face.

"Oh, Pietro," she whispered. "Oh, brother. What will I do now?" she took his hand in hers, lifted it to her cheek. Rocked herself, keening softly, Vision standing behind her with an expression that looked very much like grief on his face.

"Motherfucker," a loud voice said behind them.

"Not now," Clint groaned, trying to shush Fury. Couldn't the bastard see that the girl needed to grieve?

Fury bent over him, peering down at him. "You gonna die on me, Barton?"

"Not today." He shut his eyes.

"Good. Take him to the infirmary," Fury ordered, and a moment later gentle hands were manoeuvring him onto a stretcher.

"No, there's people more hurt than me…" Clint tried to protest.

"Shut up, Barton. And him, take him to Lab 325."

Clint's eyes shot open. "What are you going to do?"

"You will not experiment on his corpse!" Wanda shouted at the same moment, surging to her feet, red light glowing around her hands.

Vision stayed her gently. "That is not his intent."

Wanda stilled, stared at Fury intently. And then her eyes slowly began to widen with hope. "Is it possible?" she asked, her voice choked.

"It is. There are side effects…"

"Worse than death?" she gave a choked little laugh.

"It's possible that your brother might be immune to the side effects anyway. One other subject was and considering your enhanced status, your brother has more in common with her than the other subjects. But even if he's not, there is a method of cure for the side effects."

"Do it," Wanda said at once. "Whatever it takes."

"Wait," Clint said, "are you saying you can bring someone back from being dead? That you've done this before?" He struggled off the stretcher, waving the medics away. "No. This one I have to see."

"Fine, but if you drop dead too I don't have enough for you," Fury said crankily.

Clint staggered after the small procession carrying Pietro's body. He was a little surprised when Vision's arm slipped supportively around his waist, but leaned on the – man? android? cyborg? – he'd have to ask what Vision found an acceptable term – gratefully.

Clint thought he knew every inch of the helicarrier. God knew he'd spent enough time exploring its spaces, during the time he'd been stationed there. He'd nearly brought the damned thing crashing from the sky, too. He pushed that memory aside as Fury led them through a door he'd thought led to a closet, and then through a series of narrow passageways and finally to a secure vault door marked Lab 325.

"What the hell," Clint muttered, peering at the door as Fury entered an impossibly long code on the keypad and took both a retinal scan and a palmprint to open the door. "I never knew this was here."

"It's nice to know I managed to keep some secrets from your inquisitive ass, Barton," Fury said dryly, pulling the door open. The two medics carrying Pietro's stretcher carried him in, laid him carefully on the single hospital bed in the middle of the room, and then departed silently. Fury closed the door, leaving himself, Clint, Vision and Wanda alone in the lab with Pietro's body.

"What is this place, anyway?" Clint said, looking around with puzzlement. It looked like a very sparsely equipped medical bay, with some basic equipment.

"Lab 325," Fury said obscurely, turning to the opposite wall – and the most complicated safe door Clint had ever seen. "The original source for this material has been destroyed. We have a very limited quantity remaining. It was always intended for the purpose of reviving a fallen Avenger. From what I've seen today, this young man qualifies. Am I right?"

"He certainly does," Vision said quietly. They all watched as Fury worked the door. Finally, it opened to reveal a small cabinet lined with what Clint was pretty sure was vibranium – and three small tubes sitting in shock absorbers inside. Fury took out one of the tubes before closing the safe door again.

"It's not instantaneous," he said quietly, unwrapping a syringe and slotting the tube inside. "But considering that I understand Mr Maximoff has improved thermeostasis and cell regeneration anyway – it may be quicker than normal."

They watched in silence as Fury put the needle into Pietro's arm and depressed the plunger. He next clipped a finger monitor onto Pietro's forefinger, switched on a machine beside the bed.

The flat line hummed across the screen.

Wanda, holding onto Pietro's other hand, stared at it with desperate hope.

Vision reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

Clint, suddenly realising that he was about at the end of his strength, put both hands on the end of the bed and leaned heavily on it.

"I'm not wasting one of those on your ass, Barton," Fury didn't even glance at him.

"Not gonna need it, sir."

"Good."

The flat line was still humming. Wanda's shoulders were starting to slump.

And then there was a blip.

"Come on, son," Fury muttered.

Another blip. A third. And suddenly, it was a heartbeat tracing across the screen, and Pietro's chest lifted and fell as he took in a breath. Wanda began to sob helplessly, leaning down to put her arms across Pietro, uncaring of the blood that got on her face and clothes as she pressed her cheek against his chest.

"A miracle," Vision said softly.

Clint just shook his head. "Whose soul did you sell to the devil for this, Fury?"

"Offered him yours, Barton, but he knocked it back," came the dry response, and Clint knew he'd get no answers.

xoxoxoxox

Steve stood, Natasha at his shoulder, looking down at the four new Avengers before him. A slight frown furrowed his brow.

"Sorry I'm late!" Pietro came dashing into the hall, pulled up beside his sister, casting her a mischievous grin. She shook her head at him repressively.

Clint came jogging in on Pietro's heels, bow over his shoulder. He strode over to Steve, took his place beside Natasha. Three original Avengers, facing the five new members of the team.

"Avengers," Steve began.

"Ahem," a voice said politely behind him, "Would you mind very much if I said it? I've been waiting a long time for the opportunity…"

Steve grinned, turning around to face the unassuming man in the suit who stood there. A heavily scarred man stood at his left shoulder, a young woman with long dark hair at his right. He gestured the two of them to go ahead and join the rest of the team, and they obeyed with smiles and nods.

"Go ahead, Phil."

"Avengers," said Phil Coulson, "Assemble!"