Hey everyone! So I wrote this for the Beta Branch's annual Secret Santa exchange for JadenGrace1. We're always doing fun challenges over there, so if you want in on the action (or just want somewhere to get help with your writing) shoot me a PM and I'll give you more info. We're always looking for new members!

Rating: K+ or T

Characters: Clint and Tony

Pairings: none

Genres: hurt/comfort, friendship

Warnings: none

He was going to kill him. Of course, he'd have to get them both out alive first, but after that he was definitely going to kill him.

"You know, Stark, if you're going to continue to get yourself kidnapped every other week, the least you could do is remember to bring your suit!" Clint ranted as he shot arrow after arrow. "And it just had to be on my one day off too. You really have no consideration for others, do you?"

"I can't help it, Barton. My genius is in high demand!" Tony countered.

"Well then next time can you try to be taken somewhere a little warmer? I'm not a big fan of fifteen below zero," the archer said as he tried to find the base's exit. He spotted it about five hundred feet away, but there were dozens of agents they were going to have to go through to get there, and that wasn't even counting the myriad of men guarding the gate. He needed a plan.

"Anything to make you happy, Legolas. I'll just contact HYDRA's customer service and-"

Tony let out a loud grunt as Clint shoved him into a small shed containing rations and other supplies.

"Stay here," he instructed as he handed the billionaire one of his spare guns, "and shoot anybody that tries to get in."

"What if it's you?" Tony questioned.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Okay, shoot anyone that tries to get it unless it's me. Got it?"

Tony nodded then found himself alone in the dark. The billionaire felt helpless without his suit, and he hated it. Sure, he had some training in hand-to-hand, but he was nowhere near the caliber of Clint or Natasha. All he could do was sit there and sincerely hope the archer had a good plan that didn't involve getting himself killed.

Suddenly, there was a series of loud explosions that shook the walls and caused a few cans to fall off the shelves. Tony kept his finger poised on the trigger of his gun and waited silently.

"Stark, it's me. Open up!" Clint's voice came from outside the door. Tony quickly obeyed.

"Dang, Legolas, what did you do?" he asked as he took in his surroundings. Nearly every building was on fire, and copious amount of debris along with the bodies of numerous HYDRA agents littered the ground around them.

"Remember those untested missile arrows you and Bruce told me not to use yet? Well, I kinda used them."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're lucky they didn't explode in your face, Barton."

Clint just shrugged. "I took cover after I shot them. Now come on. It won't take them long to regroup and start shooting at us again."

Tony nodded and followed Clint as he surprisingly led them away from the base's front gates. "Uh, the exit's over there, Birdbrain," he pointed out.

"Which is exactly where they're going to expect us to go. I know what I'm doing, Tony, so just keep your mouth shut and stay close." The billionaire raised an eyebrow at the archer's sharp reply, but decided it was in his best interest to obey.

The two Avengers weaved their way around the debris and corpses until they reached the fence that surrounded the base. It was about fifteen feet tall with barbed wire snaking about it like ivy, making it clear that there was no safe way to climb it.

"Now what, genius?" Tony asked. Clint responded by taking out a small device and placing it on the fence. Immediately, it began slicing through the metal and wire as if it were scissors cutting paper.

"It's called a Mouse Hole," Clint explained. "One of Coulson's people made it."

When the Mouse Hole had made an opening big enough for the two to get through, Clint took it off the fence and replaced it in his pocket. He then carefully climbed through the hole and motioned for Tony to do the same. Once they had both gotten through the fence, Clint ran into the woods that encompassed the base with Tony following closely behind.

It seemed like they had been running for hours when Clint finally allowed them to stop and rest. Tony was glad to take a break. The frigid air had made his lungs burn while they were running, and the fact that the snow was at least a foot deep didn't help. However, if he wasn't so distracted by the extreme cold and his aching muscles, he probably would have enjoyed the view. The sky had cleared, despite the lack of sunshine, and was now a deep blue. He could see white-tipped mountains in the distance, and in front of the two heroes lay a broad plain with snow-covered trees towering on either side.

"I think we're far enough away now. I'll call HQ and get Coulson to send in the extraction team," Clint announced as he laid his bow and quiver against a tree and took a satellite phone out of his pocket. Tony nodded in response and wiped the snow off of a large rock so he could sit on it.

"Hey, Legolas, tell whoever's on the phone to stop somewhere and get us some food on the way here. I'm starving!" Clint just waved him off and walked farther out onto the plain as he dialed Coulson's number.

Clint had just finished dialing when suddenly, he fell straight through the ground. Tony sprang up and frantically searched for his friend, but to his dismay there was no sign of the archer. Instead, all he saw was broken ice revealing rushing water underneath.

"Clint!" the billionaire yelled. He was about to strip his coat and dive in after the man, but then Clint's upper body emerged.

"T-Tony, don't come any closer!" he commanded, though his voice was very weak.

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Shut up a-and stay put. I-I need to concentrate," the archer replied. Tony wanted nothing more than to run out there and help his friend, but the logical part of his brain prevented him from doing so. He painfully watched as Clint gradually slithered onto the ice. It felt like hours, but eventually the archer was able to get himself out of the water. As he slowly rolled towards the billionaire, Tony feared more of the hidden ice would break and send Clint back into the frigid depths. As soon as Clint reached solid ground, Tony ran to him and immediately dropped to his knees.

"Dang it, Clint, could you not have waited until we got home to go swimming?"

"N-not the time, Tony. G-got to get clothes off," the archer mumbled as he weakly fumbled with his coat's zipper.

"I got it," Tony replied. "Just try not to move. You need to conserve your energy."

Clint gave a small nod then allowed his body to go limp as the billionaire stripped him of his coat and jacket. When he got to the archer's shirt, Tony grabbed one of Clint's knives out of his coat then used it to cut the shirt off. He then removed his own coat and wrapped it around his friend's bare chest. The billionaire shivered at the loss of protection against the cold, but he knew Clint needed it a lot more than he did.

The archer was barely conscious now, and Tony feared he would pass out any second. His breathing was getting slower by the second, and while the billionaire was shaking like a leaf, Clint had stop shivering entirely. Definitely not a good sign.

"So, Legolas, did you happen to get ahold of Coulson before you took your ice bath?" Tony asked as he removed the archer's boots and socks. Of course, he knew the tracking beacon in the satellite phone would allow the director to find them either way, but Tony needed to keep Clint talking in hopes it would keep him awake long enough for help to arrive.

"They're...coming. Shouldn't... be long now," the archer replied faintly. His eyelids drooped dangerously low, and Tony had to resist the urge to shake the man.

"Clint, you need to stay awake. Because if you pass out on me, then things are going to get really quiet and you know I don't do well in awkward silences," the billionaire rambled as he cut off Clint's pants. "I mean seriously, things are awkward enough since I have to strip you. The least you could do is keep the conversation going."

"'M s'rry, T'ny," Clint whispered before he lost consciousness.

"Clint? Clint! Barton, I swear if you die on me I will invent a way to bring you back just so I can kill you!" Tony yelled. The archer remained motionless. Silently praying to whomever was listening, the billionaire took off a glove and shakily felt for a pulse.

There wasn't one.

"No, no this isn't happening," Tony said, trying to suppress the panic attack that threatened to overtake him. "You are not doing this, Clint. You can't! Do you have any idea how selfish you're being? Think of who you're leaving here! If you're gone, who's supposed to cook us breakfast in the mornings? Sure, Rogers tries, but he could never hope to make pancakes as good as yours. His eggs aren't good either, and he never makes the bacon crispy enough!"

Tony knew he was spouting out nonsense, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could think about was how another friend had died because he couldn't stay out of trouble.

He continued, "and who am I supposed to bounce insults off of now? Bruce never fights back, Thor just laughs and says something weird and Asgardian, Steve always takes things too seriously, and Natasha... Oh God. Clint, think of Natasha! You may not give a crap about me or anybody else, but I know you care about her. So please, find a way to come back."

The last part came out as a whisper. Tony knew pleading was useless, but he couldn't allow reality to sink in yet. Suddenly, he heard a whirring noise come from above. He looked up and saw the quinjet coming down. It landed about fifty feet away from them next to the frozen lake. Medics rushed out with a gurney, Coulson following right behind them.

"What happened?" the director asked. His voice was calm and steady, but Tony saw a spark of worry and sorrow flash in his eyes as he watched the medics load Clint's pale body onto the stretcher.

"The snow was covering up the lake. He didn't know he was standing on ice until it was too late. There's no pulse, Coulson," Tony explained, not even attempting to hide the despair in his voice.

"Let's not give up hope yet," he encouraged. "Clint always finds a way to come back to us."

The billionaire had a feeling Coulson was just saying that for his benefit, but he didn't say anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the archer's bow and quiver lying against a tree. Without saying a word, he retrieved them. They were the archer's most prized possessions, and it wouldn't be right to just leave them there. Once Coulson had finished grabbing the rest of Hawkeye's discarded clothing, the two silently made their way to the quinjet.

When they got inside, Tony was given a warm blanket and some hot tea. He could hear medics yelling at each other as they stood over Clint's body, but he couldn't figure out why. Clint was dead, and there was nothing anybody could do to change that. He tried to lean forward to get a better look, but the billionaire soon realized he had no more energy.

"Go ahead and get some sleep, Tony," Coulson said and took away the billionaire's tea mug. "I'll wake you up when we're back in New York."

"But Clint-"

"Don't worry about Clint. The medics will do everything they can to bring him back to us. But you were also out there in twenty below zero weather, and you need to rest."

As much as Tony wanted to stay awake, he felt his eyelids getting heavier by the second. After casting the archer one more glance, he finally gave into the fatigue and slipped into blissful sleep.

Someone was talking to him. The voice was very familiar, but his sluggish brain had yet to provide him with the owner's name and face. Clint tried to open his eyes, but it was as if his eyelids had been superglued shut.

"So that's when I switched to gluten free waffles," the voice continued. "Of course, that didn't last too long. After the whole ordeal with the Mandarin, I figured if a super-powered terrorist couldn't kill me, a little gluten wouldn't either."

Clint groaned internally. He wished he could move his arms to slap the speaker, but the archer was still working on opening his eyes. Finally, he was able to crack them open a little. He blinked several times as they adjusted to the light then took in his surroundings.

He recognized the room as one of SHIELD's infirmaries. There was a heart monitor sticking to his chest, and an IV in his arm. He mentally checked himself for injuries, but the only things he found to be off were his abnormally dry throat and complete lack of energy. Beside him, he saw Tony sitting in a chair and playing with his phone with his feet propped up on Clint's bed. The billionaire was still talking, completely oblivious to the archer's awakening.

"Don't you ever shut up?" Clint asked, his voice hoarse.

Tony immediately ceased his monologue. "Well, it's about time you woke up. You know I'm not into one-sided conversations," he said. The billionaire stood up and grabbed a pitcher off of the nightstand. He poured some water into a cup then held it up to the archer's lips. "Here, you sound like a chain smoker."

Clint drank the water eagerly, grateful for the relief it provided his throat. "Thanks. How long was I out?"

"Three days," the billionaire replied as he sat back down. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Bits and pieces. Things get fuzzy after we escaped the HYDRA base."

Tony nodded. "Doctor said this might happen. Well, my fine feathered friend, allow me to enlighten you. You see, while we were waiting for Coulson to come pick us up, you decided to fall through some hidden ice and take a swim in a frozen lake. Then, because you're such an overachiever, you decided to stop breathing all together. They had to hook you up to heart-lung machine in order to get your heart beating again."

Clint looked at the billionaire in disbelief. "Seriously? It was that bad?"

"'Bad' would be an understatement. Your core body temperature had dropped to seventy-nine degrees by the time they got to us. Technically, you were already dead," Tony explained, his eyes shifting to the floor. Clint could tell the billionaire was still shaken up, and he couldn't really blame the man.

"Well, I'm not dead anymore," he assured.

"I know, but just try not to pull a stunt like that again, okay? It sucked to find out you had no pulse."

"Awe, so you do care," Clint said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Tony looked grateful for a second before a smirk formed on his face.

"Well, I'd miss your pancakes. Besides, I didn't want my last memory of you to be lying in the snow mostly naked."

Clint gave a slight chuckle. "I'm glad I don't remember that."

"You should be. I'm scarred for life."

"So, other than that, did you make it out okay?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Me? I'm not the one who got turned into a Hawksicle."

"Hawksicle, really?"

"Yep, and if you give me a minute, I'm sure I can come up with a really witty remark about you and Steve starting a Vanilla Ice cover band."

Clint rolled his eyes. "That's lame, Stark. Even for you."

"Give me a break, Barton. Between getting nabbed by HYDRA and you dying, it's been a stressful week," Tony said defensively.

"Well, at least I didn't stay dead."

"Good thing, too. Otherwise, Natasha probably would've followed you into the afterlife just to smack you."

"Where is Natasha anyway?" the archer asked.

"She, along with the rest of our team, should be here momentarily. I just alerted them that you're awake."

Clint nodded in acceptance, and the pair slipped into a comfortable silence. Tony could tell the archer still felt weak and exhausted, but at least he was breathing on his own. The billionaire had been telling the truth when he said the past few days had been stressful. He hadn't told Clint, but Tony had had a panic attack when he first woke up in his room at Avengers Tower. The others had tried to calm him down by saying the medics had revived Clint and that he was alive, but Tony had been convinced they were lying. All he could think of was Clint's pale, motionless body.

But now he knew the archer was okay. No permanent damage had been done, so within the next couple weeks Clint would be back to normal. Soon, it would all be just a bad memory. And for that, Tony was truly grateful.