Goddamn it was cold. The wind bit through his jacket and seemed to shred through his skin, lodging deep in his bones. Despite the layers that he had on, the assurances from the SHIELD quartermaster that this was the best stuff to protect against the frigid Siberian chill, Hawkeye couldn't believe how goddamn cold it was.
He glanced over at his silent partner who seemed impervious to the cold that was tearing him apart. He could tell, though, that she was struggling to maintain her indifference. Her lips were blue and every once and a while, her chin would quiver like she was clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.
"Wh-when is the fucking ex-extraction scheduled for?" He bit out.
"Not for another four hours." The woman mumbled, pushing the sleeve of her jacket back to reveal her wrist watch. She swore quietly and then looked at him, concern on her face, "We need to get to somewhere safe where we-we can make a fire. We are in real trouble here."
"Recce of the area indicated that there were some caves up in the hills to the southeast of us. They said that there was no indication that anyone lives in them or have stayed in there for quite some time. If we run, we can probably make it." Natasha pulled her white balaclava over her face and tightened the straps on her pack. "What do you say, Barton? Want to race me there?"
From their scant cover, mere scree and the stunted barebones of shrubs, they started out into a run that quickly got them warm enough that thinking wasn't painful. Natasha was already a hundred yards ahead, running quickly around a small hill and towards the looming cliffs. Hefting his bow in his hand, he checked to make sure his arrows were clear of snags from his clothing before following her across the frigid tundra.
Scaling the cliff was dangerous. The wind threatened to yank them off what little footing they could find. "Tell me, why did we think this was a good idea?" He muttered to himself for the fifth time. Natasha was perched on a ledge like a bird, watching his progress from twenty feet up. She had reached the cave, had embedded an anchor into the wall by its mouth and was tieing off rope to lower down to him. Clint looked up at her expectantly and could see her mumbling to herself as her wind chapped hands worked knots. She caught his eye and pulled the last knot tight before tossing it to him.
Just as the rope sailed through the air, the wind picked up and it caught on an outcropping a few feet from his right. Cursing, he shifted his weight to reach for the rope but it was inches from the tips of his fingers. "Just fucking typical." He groused before taking a lunge at the rope. His feet slipped as he moved, hindering his momentum and slamming his side into a jutting rock. His hands grasped the rope and he could feel the palms of his neoprene gloves heat up from friction. Dangling a hundred feet off the ground, Clint gasped for air and fought to maintain consciousness. He had to have broken a rib judging by the amount of pain he was in. "Mother Fucker." He snarled as the wind swung him into the cliff again.
"Are you alright?" Clint heard Natasha ask from her perch. He glanced up at her, her face distorted with concern.
"I'm just fucking peachy." He gritted as he began to pull himself up the rope and towards safety. It was all he could do to keep from passing out, focusing on putting one hand in front of the other, inching up the rock face slowly but surely. When hands reached out to grab him and pull him up the rest of the way, it was almost a surprise. He lay on his back trying to breathe as the pain shot through his side. "Let's go climb a fucking cliff in Siberia in a snowstorm, she said. It'll be fun, she said…"
"Oh shut up. You liked it." Natasha said as she unzipped his jacket and lifted the numerous layers to inspect his side. Her fingers probed gently but it didn't keep Clint from complaining and squirming. "Well, good news is that they aren't broken. Bad news is, you are still a whiner."
"Thanks Nat." He pulled his clothes back in order as she moved deeper into the cave. The ceiling dipped low enough that they had to crouch through. The cave opened up to a larger space where a hole in the ceiling let in the cold air and a bit of light. In the center of the room there were charred remains of a campfire. "Looks like we weren't the first ones here."
"It could be one of the native tribes that roam the area." Natasha offered as she sifted through the ashes with a toe. "Unfortunately, I don't think there is enough in this cave for us to get a fire going. At least we're out of the wind."
Finding a spot on the ground, he settled down and pulled his pack off his back. "I've got some MREs in here somewhere." He muttered as he rooted around in the bag.
Natasha walked around the cave, inspecting the walls. She stopped, "Hey, come see this."
He got up slowly and hobbled to a dark corner where Natasha stood. "What?"
Her flashlight illuminated a small cranny that seemed to have been rudely gouged out of the wall. In it was a small figurine carved out of bone. "I think this might be a sacred place of some sort." She murmured, leaning in to get a better look.
Something caught Clint's eye. "Look." He grabbed her wrist, pointing the flashlight to a crevice in the wall. "It's just big enough for someone small to slip through."
"You would never have seen this if you were in front of it." Natasha murmured, breaking from his grasp to step through the small niche. "There's a spring on this side but there's not much space. You aren't superstitious about drinking from what might possibly be a sacred spring, are you?"
"Uh… no…" He scratched his head in confusion.
"Okay, good." The woman reemerged with her canteen in hand. He handed her his emptied bottle and she disappeared again to refill.
"Sacred spring water is the best kind of water." He murmured, still unable to shake the uneasy feeling coiling in his gut. He settled against the wall and resumed scrounging through his pack. "Lets eat. I've got SHIELD MREs. Shepherd's pie or beef stew." She sat beside him, crossing her long legs. "Mmm... Delicious." She said dryly.
When they had finished eating and had packed up, Clint lay down with his head on his pack, "You take first shift?"
He lifted his head and cracked an eye, "I cooked."
"You poured water in a bag." She raised an eyebrow but decided not to protest further. He was already snoring.
The beeping woke her from a strange dream. She jerked her head back, cracking it off the cave wall. Hissing a curse, she rubbed her head and nudged Clint with her knee. She first thought he had been using her though as a pillow but he was pressed against her with an arm wrapped possessively around her legs. He nuzzled into her thigh, mumbling sleepily. "Get up. We have to go." She mumbled, feeling disturbed by his closeness.
He raised his blond head and looked up at her, his bright blue eyes were cloudy with sleep. "Hmm..." Clint looked down at her legs and jumped back like he had caught fire. "Jesus! I'm sorry, Nat."
Without speaking, they eased their packs on their backs and tightened the straps. Using the ropes, they rappelled down and were gathering ropes when they heard the sounds of an approaching quinjet. The air seemed to shimmer, the snow swirled and the craft appeared before them. "Now that's service." Clint said happily, grinning as he made his way up the ramp.