Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel comics or characters or movies, and am making no money off of this fic.
AN: Written for the October 22nd Whumptober prompt: friendly fire.
########
Hawk Vision by luvsanime02
########
Clint Barton sees a lot, being up on the rooftops. Being a sniper usually means staying out of the action just a little bit, being removed from the rest of the operation, while still being an important part of the whole battle. He sees the shot that takes out Hill. It's not from the enemy, and it's not on purpose.
Friendly fire. It's a term that Clint's heard a thousand times before. Every war movie ever talks about friendly fire. Clint's even read some of the statistics on the subject, being a curious person. He's learned that it's not nearly as common as the movies would have you believe, but then, that's true about practically everything.
Clint, from his position above, sees the shot go wild, ripping through Hill's chest from the back, and then he watches her stagger and fall to the ground. He hopes that she didn't feel the pain for too long. He's seen what a chest wound can do to someone. It's nasty, and an awful way to die, waiting for your lungs to fill up with blood if your heart isn't hit first.
Hill doesn't twitch, her form still, and Clint breathes out once, twice, looks down the scope of his rifle at the agent who accidentally shot Hill from behind, watches him raise that same gun and shoot himself in the head once he realizes what he's done, and then Clint makes his decision.
"Shots fired from the building to the south, up high. Looks like they have snipers of their own out," Clint reports into his comms.
There's silence on the other end of the line for a minute, one full of dread. "Who was hit?" someone asks. One of Fury's people, no doubt.
Clint works his jaw, prying it open to let the words out. "Agent Hill and Agent Coopers," he replies. His voice is even and his hands are steady, and later, this moment will hit him fully and Clint will want to throw up or something, but for now, he waits.
"Status?" the voice asks, and from their tone, Clint understands that they already know the answer to that question.
"KIA," Clint replies. He takes down another enemy, and then another, and meanwhile, his heartbeat is loud in his ears.
"Acknowledged, Agent Barton." And that's Fury himself. "Thank you for the report."
Clint swallows down all of the things that he wants to say, and perhaps all of the things that he should say. He doesn't have much time to devote to speaking right now, anyway. He has a job to do.