Clintasha- prompt - "Faith"
He wasn't a praying man. Not by a long shot. But as he knelt by her bedside, fingers interlaced, head bowed, the same words ran through his brain again and again. "Please, let her pull through. Please, let her wake up. Please, don't let her die."
He hadn't slept since he got the call. She had been shot while on assignment protecting an asset, a nuclear engineer from Iran. The asset was dead and she was lying there, pale and still in her hospital bed, hanging onto life.
"You look like crap, Clint." Her voice was rough and gravelly.
His eyes flew open and he looked up to see her wry smile. "Your fault. You had me worried, Nat. Fury'd kill me if anything happened to his best agent."
She coughed and struggled to sit up in bed. She winced and sank back down on her pillow. "Now I know it's serious. Finally admitting I'm the best."
He took her hand and squeezed it, his voice thick with emotion. "You are, you know. The best. I can't let anything to happen to you. What'd I do without you?"
She squeezed back. "You're not getting rid of me that easy. Have a little faith, Clint."
He nodded, remembering his prayers from a few moments before. "Yeah, a little faith."