So, new story. Kinda excited about this one, lads! Honestly was a dream I had last week so lets hope I wrote it ok! Criticism is welcome just as much if not as much as praise. :) Much love!
DISCLAIMER! I.E; THINGS I DON'T OWN BUT WOULD DESPERATELY LOVE TO OWN!; I own nothing to do with Avengers, Hawkeye, Black Widow, or anything to do with Marvel for that matter! All credit to the amazing mind of the amazing Mr. Stan Lee and his publishers.
The wall under him was solid, the rubble supporting his back all the more so. Unlike him. New York was in chaos, sure the fighting was finished with, the Chitauri defeated and lying dead at his feet, but the emergency services and military were frantically running around attending to people.
He paid them no attention. He was beaten, bruised, bloody, exhausted, and above all; guilt stricken. Clint Barton was a broken man in a broken city.
He had to think about how he got here, sitting on one of the only remaining walls in the city. He had glass sticking from his back from crashing through the window, though he hadn't noticed it yet. He had a terrible headache and it was clear from the matted hair on the back of his head that he was busted open. His shoulder ached, no doubt a bit of damage done, his ribs hurt, and he could go on about the injuries but the list of what wasn't intact would be a lot shorter.
Who actually won today? That's all that he could think of as he sat there, his bow on his lap and his empty quiver on his back. He looked around when he heard Hulk give an almighty roar, faintly hearing Stark in the coms set he still had in his ear afterwards.
The Chitauri lay lifeless, that's what they'd consider a victory. But as he looked around at the fire, rubble, and destruction he could tell there were no winners in this little conflict. And what's worse is it's his entire fault. He had the opportunity to stop Loki the second he set foot on Earth, but he was too weak minded and was so easily compromised. It sickened him.
"Don't do that to yourself, Clint." He could hear Natasha's voice as clear as day, as if it was transmitted through his coms like Stark's ramble about shawarma was right now. He quickly shook his head to try get rid of thoughts before something hit him. Natasha.
He looked around frantically, adrenaline making him stand up. He was disorientated and couldn't figure out how to find out if she was ok. Of course, he has his coms, but his mind was so messed up after the past few days that he couldn't think to use them. So, he started walking, ignoring queries by military officials as to what business he had going past the blockades set up. Their excuses ranged from they were ordered to their just trying to help the civilians. The latter was said so many times, it eventually made his snap.
"You say you help the people!?" He snapped at one young officer trying to keep him back. "Look around you! While you hid like cowards we risked everything to help!"
The young man was gobsmacked at Clint's outburst, so he just let him through. He walked with his bow in his hand, one arrow now in his quiver since he ripped it from a Chitauri's chest as he passed.
"Eh… Legolas…?" Tony's startled and somewhat approachful voice said over the coms. Barton stopped, holding the earpiece in its place.
"Position, agent." Steve's calmer voice added, causing Barton to look around.
"About two blocks from Stark's tower." He answered through a sigh, and started heading there even before Rogers told him to.
"Clint..? Are you ok..?" Romanoff's voice came through, earning a smile from the male in question. She was alive and sounded well. He waited until he was walking into the lobby of Starks tower and into the elevator before replying.
"Now? Never better."
The elevator doors opened up to the destroyed room at the top of the tower. He gave a weak smile to Natasha and went over to her, noting the unconscious Loki at her feet.
The two assassins said nothing, they just hugged eachother tightly. Barton didn't care about the pain it caused him, his partner had survived the fight with nothing more than what seemed to be a little gash on her forehead.
She was still there with him, still around, still there to be his partner, to tease him, to help him, to be a friend.
He always wanted that bit more though..
They looked over to the elevator when the doors opened again, Thor Stark and Rogers walking out from it with Hulk currently climbing the side of the building.
"None lost. That's good." Thor noted in his unusually cheery voice. It was after a battle, a successful battle, Barton couldn't help but think if that's worth celebrating on Asgard, a barely won fight.
When a sound came from Loki, Clint acted on instinct. He hadn't noticed it, but Natasha's arm was around his waist supporting him. He probably looked unsteady to her. Either way, he moved to kneel next to Loki and careful draw the remaining arrow back on the bow. It was aimed right at the defeated God's face as the other Avengers gather around him.
"If it's all the same to you.." The Asgardian started, grunting slightly as he shifted his position, "I'll have that drink now."
How Barton wanted to send that arrow through that smug bastards eye.