Author's Note: This is my first uploaded story here! I've not really read many Avengers stories because I've been too obsessed with other shows, so I'm sorry if this has been done before, but I thought that even if it has every story ends up different.

Also, I am going to try my best with updates. In the upcoming weeks I have exams, so I may be slow, but once summer hits I'll have nothing to do but write, so... I just wanted to throw this out here to get some opinions on it and get my feelers out there, so enjoy, I guess?

Chapter One: The Accident

Fire.

His lungs were on fire, yet everything around him seemed so cold. The man's vision was blurred and all sound seemed to stop even as his crazy surroundings didn't. Explosions and gunfire surrounded him, screams for help and cries of pain, but nothing registered. Everything was just a black, empty void. A moment later, his senses returned and he saw a flash of light coming towards him. He heard someone scream his name, asking if he was okay, but there were two of everything and sound was delayed, lagging, as he tried to register it completely. All of a sudden, it was all gone.

There were more screams as Captain America fell to the ground with a loud thud. People watched, some from nearby buildings and others from their TV screens, as he collapsed mid-war. His shield flew from his hand as he hit the asphalt and it crashed rather loudly into the brick building nearby. It was Clint's turn to have his world freeze. All the clamor stopped and even his heart seemed to come to a halt in its beating."Steve!" he yelled, one hand reaching out for his fallen friend. There was blood - a lot of it - and Clint's heart sank.

Running, he quickly made his way over to the captain. "Steve," he tried again, but there was no answer. He heard Tony in his ear asking if Steve was okay, but he was on too much of an adrenaline high to think well enough to respond. Steve was fine. He had to be - Steve was always fine. He'd been through worse before. Hearing his name again, Clint finally responded. "There's... blood and he's out. I need to get him to a medic."

"We can handle this," Natasha chimed in through the comm. "Get Steve to safety and we'll hold them off." For a moment, Clint doubted her. Steve was nearly dead, but they could handle this? Without Cap, their functioning as a team was a hell of a lot more difficult. Not to mention the fact that their strongest member had already fallen. What if they couldn't handle it? What if they weren't strong enough? But now wasn't the time to think like that. If ever there were a time to think positively, this was it. Steve became more important to him every day and he wasn't prepared to lose that, so with a nod to the others, even though he doubted they could see, he lifted his comrade and started dragging him towards the hospital as quick as he could.

It didn't take long to get there and Steve was taken to the ER almost immediately. Clint only stayed long enough to watch him get on the table. With that, he took back off to get his revenge on the thing that had nearly killed Steve. The rest of the battle went rather quickly, though for Clint it seemed to drag on. Tony got out with minor injures, Thor was fine, Bruce would heal fast, and Natasha would have a few bruises. As for Clint, he had a majorly broken heart that wouldn't heal anytime soon. He left everyone in the dust once the OK was given by Fury to go see Steve.

All he wanted was to see his friend and he'd be damned if he'd let anything stop him. They all understood, thankfully. Steve and Clint had become best friends in recent months, almost inseparable. It was obvious that Clint would go off to protect one of the few good things he still had. Anyone in their right mind would. Unfortunately for Clint, Steve was still in surgery when he got there. Instead, he took some time to go home, shower, and get into some comfortable clothes before going back.

Barton still sat in the waiting room for what felt like - and probably was - hours before Steve was out, though. When he saw the blond being wheeled out of surgery, he was asleep and that left Clint's stomach turning uncomfortably, because what if Steve didn't wake up again? It would all be his fault. Wringing his hands together, Clint followed a step behind the nurse to Steve's room and he fell asleep at Captain America's bedside that night. Maybe he was scared of losing him, maybe he was just attached, but he wasn't going to leave Steve alone.

Even when Clint woke up Steve was still out cold. He sighed as he examined the white room, eyes eventually falling on a figure in the corner. "I talked to the doctors," the man said and Clint knew that voice. "There's brain damage. They said it wouldn't be a surprise if he woke up not remembering everything. Be patient with him." But all Clint could focus on were the words 'brain damage.' How much damage? He felt horrible about this. Rogers was hurt because of him - and did Bruce just say something about amnesia? There was an inaudible, guilty sigh from Clint.

"What all will he remember?" Clint asked, but Bruce just shook his head in reply. That wasn't a good sign at all.

"I honestly don't know, but the damage looks pretty extensive." Clint's heart stopped with that. Steve might not remember me. All this work getting him to like me - for this? "I'm sorry." But they both knew that wasn't enough. This wasn't fixable. An apology couldn't bring Steve back. Words in general couldn't do much and in some ways words were worse than any torture someone could come up with. Because words were just words, they didn't mean anything. Clint looked up from Steve and offered Bruce a smile in appreciation, but it didn't mean anything either. It was just another thing that couldn't bring Steve back.

"Don't," Clint said. "He'll be fine." But they both knew he didn't really believe that. They both knew Clint was falling apart. "There's nothing to be sorry about." He looked back down to Steve, his hand subconsciously finding his soldier's, and he whispered into the air, "You'll be fine, Steve," as if he was trying to convince himself of it. Bruce took that moment to leave the two alone, give them some privacy.

But Clint didn't want to be alone. Because with Bruce there, he had motivation not to cry. If it was just him and a sleeping cripple, he was more likely to break down. And break down he did, hand grasping at Steve's for life as he tried to get a handle on things. Just when life started getting good, SHIELD got in the way. They were so close and now this. 'Upset' didn't really begin to cover how Clint felt, didn't even touch the surface.

Everything was hectic, as if all hell had broken loose, and Steve was getting lost in the battle. But it was all a blur. He saw everything in brief flashes, barely heard a syllable here and there. Everything was foggy, hard to make out. The voices, the noises, the faces... They should have been familiar, but they felt like distant, forgotten memories. Who were those people and why was he on a battlefield? There was another explosion followed by a scream and then - pain. Steve jolted awake.

The scream had been his, if the speeding EKG was no indication. He was alone in a dark room and he made a mental note that he didn't know how he got there, or even where 'there' was. In a matter of seconds, nurses were rushing in there, checking monitors and his pulse. They certainly didn't care about personal space. One of them - a man, seemed to know him - was talking, but no sound was registering. Everything was blank.

Steve stared awkwardly, mouth agape, as he tried to ignore the heart pounding away at his chest as if it were about to explode. His breaths were shaky, lips quivering, and eyes searching for something, anything to tell him where he was. But he had no clue. A high pitched ringing made its way to his ears and following that, his brain started tuning into the voices around them, hard as they were to make out.

"-eart rate elev... may need to... agai... don't f..." The blond stared up at Bruce as he tried to figure out what was going on. The doctor looked back at him with a small smile. "Do you know where you are?" After a moment of trying to register the question, Steve shook his head. The other man's expression seemed to worsen. "Do you know... who you are?" And Steve offered the same response.

"No sir. I don't... I don't remember."