A/N: Soooo… This idea's been sitting super firmly in my head since I saw 'The Age of Ultron' a couple of days ago. (Fret not, this is – almost, at least – completely spoiler free!) Those ideas transformed into a fic. (smirks sheepishly)

DISCLAIMER: NOPE, I own absolutely NOTHING of the 'Avengers' universe. Or well, only in my dreams, anyway. (sighs dramatically)

WARNINGS: Language! ('Sorry, Captain!) Blood, injuries. (blinks) Yeah, that's it. stunningly short!

Awkay, because I REALLY have to stop stalling… This is my first 'Avengers' fic so I'm a bit nervous. Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

A Hawk's Freefall

It was supposed to be easy and simple. Well, as easy and simple as any Avengers mission could be. Clearly somewhere along the way someone had messed up the memo.

Clint swore as he simultaneously launched a yet another arrow and narrowly dodged a bullet. His arrow found its target effortlessly. The bullet came far too close for comfort to doing the same.

"Language!" Steve's voice came immediately through his ear comm. This time there was no humor in those words. The Captain himself muttered something incomprehensible.

"Hypocrite", Tony wasted no time in accusing.

"In case anyone's interested I've got the disc", Natasha's half amused, half irritated and tight voice cut in. "So let's get the hell out of here. They're going to detonate this place."

There was a moment of stunned, frozen silence. During which Clint was almost distracted enough to get hit. He made up for the slip of attention with shooting an arrow directly to the middle of the newest attacker's forehead.

"What?" Tony finally voiced their resonating, screaming thought.

"Whatever they were hiding in that basement floor, they don't want anyone to find out. Or maybe whatever they were trying to hide has been moved away in the middle of this mess." Natasha was running but not even the slightest bit out of breath. Of course not. "Honestly, I don't care. Just move it! We've got two minutes and thirty seconds."

Clint swallowed, feeling his body grow cold. He'd always mastered practical and strategic thinking. This time he didn't like it.

The thing with being the sniper of the group is that you end up into the places that are the hardest to get away from in case something unexpected occurs. Which, as Clint's aching body hurried to remind him, had been made perfectly clear to him several times over. At the moment he was stood on the East side of a ten-story-high building, all too aware that in exactly twenty-two seconds another group of hostiles would appear through the rooftop's only doorway. A group of unknown yet definitely massive number of hostiles who had no idea that they were only already dead meat with the sole purpose of making sure that not a single Avenger would make it out to report. Clint was good, yes. But even he wouldn't be able to take on all of them alone. Especially now. He shivered a little while pressing a hand against his bleeding side.

He had exactly one way out of there, only one teammember who could get to him fast enough.

"Um, guys…" He swallowed, not liking the taste in his mouth. "I'm kind of stuck, here."

It was funny, really, how he actually felt the rest of them tense up even though he couldn't see them. Tony swore, loudly. So did Natasha, before taking a deep breath. Did it shudder? "Try not to get yourself killed. I'm on my way there."

Clint gritted his teeth. Six seconds left. "Don't! I've already got it covered." He looked down. Well, maybe he was called a Hawk for a reason. "Stark, you're not busy, are you?"

Tony's sharp exhale revealed that the Iron Man caught on instantly. "Oh, no you don't…!"

The door behind him burst open. Time was up. "You'd better have one hell of a catch, Tinman", he half breathed out. Then stepped into the emptiness the exact same second bullets began to fly.

Shooting arrows while freefalling isn't as easy as it looks. With an amount of flexibility and strength that Clint didn't expect to find from himself anymore he shifted and aimed. A tiny smirk of satisfaction appeared to his face when his ammo reached the rooftop and exploded.

One heck of a way to prepare those guys for the big bang.

Sun shone into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. He groaned with discomfort, trying to shift once more. He didn't manage to.

That was when two things hit him at once, both of them metallic.

Tony allowed a very, very impressive selection of swear words to flood when he realized Clint's idiotic plan. And then he was on the move. Not desperately, of course, he didn't do desperately.

He was going to kill Clint for this if the moron didn't manage to get himself killed first.

It took him longer than it should've to spot his teammate. At first he squinted his eyes at the black blop falling towards the ground at a dizzying speed. And then his eyes widened. "Jesus…!"

Too fast, way too fast.

Pushing his suit to the extreme he dashed on, using up all his willpower into not trying to guess if he'd be fast enough. He saw what had to be at least twenty or thirty hostiles on the rooftop. It was far more pleasurable than it should've been to know that they'd already been dealt with.

And then Clint was in his arms. For a moment the sudden pressure and additional weight made them spin but their journey stabilized quickly. He tightened his hold on his cargo, his eyes scanning for a proper and hopefully safe landing spot. "You just couldn't resist trying your wings, Birdboy?"

Clint chuckled. It didn't sound right. "Gotta live up to my name."

Tony gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "'Live' should be the operative word, there", he pointed out. He frowned, not liking how Clint seemed to be growing limp against him. "Are you in one piece?"

"Yeah." Clint sighed, or perhaps groaned. "Fury should fire the idiots who gathered the data for this one."

Tony smirked. "I have a feeling that he already has." That was when he spotted a forest opening that seemed reasonably safe. A relative term, that. "Hold on, Legolas. It'll be a bumpy landing."

They did land, a bit more roughly than Tony would've liked. Clearly his banged up suit wasn't at its best. In a flash Clint was free of his hold. Well, the guy never did strike him as the cuddly type.

"If I didn't know better I'd say think that you tried to kill us."

"Hey, I'm not the one who just jumped off a building. You shouldn't be a critic." Tony allowed his armor to fall and was a breath away from putting it on guard mode when he froze. Anyone would when finding themselves from the wrong side of Hawkeye's weapon of choice. "What the…?!"

"Duck!"

Tony didn't hesitate and as soon as he obeyed an arrow flew. He followed it and his eyes widened a little when he saw it hit a hostile who'd been hiding in the shadows. The enemy fell like a ragdoll without its strings.

Tony grinned. Very slowly his pulse began to settle. "Nice. Maybe a bit unnecessarily dramatic but nice", he complimented.

There was something very, very wrong with how Clint didn't respond. But Tony didn't have the time to worry about that just yet. For at that exact moment the building they just left behind exploded with a gigantic roar. And they were a little too close.

Tony had just enough time to re-suit and charge towards a unshielded Clint before the blast caught up with them. They flew down with enough force to strike Tony breathless. He closed his eyes, waiting for the storm to pass by and hoping dearly that his suit would hang on through this one more assault.

It seemed to take ages but eventually it was over, leaving behind nothing but a painful ringing to Tony's ears and a majestic cloud of dust. Not quite daring to leave the comfort of his suit just yet Tony breathed in deep, then out, testing the motions. Yes, definitely alive and, save some bruises, unharmed.

"… move … 'king heavy…"

Tony smirked sheepishly. Sometimes he forgot that all the metal around him didn't exactly make him light as a feather. "Sorry." Breathing comfortingly evenly once more he reached for his ear-comm. "Everyone still intact?"

"Yeah." Steve sounded breathless but not pained. "Thor just went to explore the ruins, to see if there's anything worth taking a closer look at."

"I'm fine." Natasha's tone was a touch quieter than usual. "Big Guy just got his lullaby. He didn't like the explosion too much. What about you? Did you catch Clint?" Her voice was unnaturally tense, full of things that she wasn't ready or willing to reveal.

"We're good. I'll just…" At that moment he finally cast a proper look at Clint. All relief fled his system and the cold spread all the way to his fingertips. He gulped, his mouth painfully dry. "Crap…!"

Clint was absolutely still on the ground. The stillness wasn't the worrying part but the lack of attempt to get up from such a vulnerable position was. As were the two bleeding wounds the archer's attire had managed to disguise so far. Now, out in the open and in sunlight, the constantly growing amount of blood was entirely too visible. One wound on the man's side, definitely painful but not life threatening. The other wound was far, far too close to the chest.

"Stark!" Never before had he heard such panic in Natasha's voice. That alone was enough to indicate just how bad things were. "Talk to me right now or I swear…!"

"Barton's down", he blurted out, his stomach knotting uncomfortably. How the hell did he not notice…?! "He's been shot. We've gotta get away from here, now."

A massive amount of commotion followed while the rest of the team reacted to his news. Tony paid no mind. Clint's eyes were still half open, staring unfocusedly at some unnamed spot. Upon closer inspection Tony discovered that the archer's skin was cool and clammy. Shock was settling in, then. Not good, not good at all.

With his very limited medical knowledge Tony abandoned his suit, then tore off a piece of his shirt and squeezed it as tightly as he could against Clint's chest wound. He didn't like how unsteady his hands were. Nor did he like the fact that if he'd move the other man right now the bleeding would only intensify. If that was possible. He was stuck here, in the forest, with nothing but a lousy piece of fabric. Possibly stuck watching his friend dying.

NO!

"Barton!" Tony tapped the wounded man's cheek. No reaction. "Clint, you stubborn little…! Focus on me, you hear? Look at me or I'll punch you in the face."

Agonizingly slowly Clint's eyes shifted towards him. It was impossible to tell how much the man actually saw, though. The archer groaned pitiably, clearly finally feeling his hands on the wound. "Nat'll… kick my ass…"

"So will I", Tony announced, his voice far more shaky than he would've liked. The blood… It was seeping out too fast. Clint needed help, immediately. "Stay awake so I can tell you exactly how much of a moron you are for trying to get yourself killed again. You're the one who needs a full body armor."

Clint's chuckle sounded uncomfortably moist and ended with the man wincing. Hawkeye never expressed discomfort so willingly. "… 'think Fury'll let me have one?" Slurred, barely comprehensible. Not good at all.

Tony gulped. All of a sudden his eyes were stinging and he fought the urge to rub at them. His hands were preoccupied by something far more important. "Hell, I'll pay for it."

Clint gave a one more, tiny smile that transformed into a grimace. That, eventually, turned into something far more terrifying. Clint's eyes were growing dimmer and it was easy to see how hard the man struggled to keep them open. "… 's freking cold."

It really wasn't. Tony tightened his squeeze, even with the risk that the accompanied pain might make Clint pass out. "I know." Where the hell were the others? "But the others are going to be here soon with blankets, alright? So stay awake." You didn't just survive that jump to die of a goddamned bullet!

That was when Tony heard commotion. The relief flew through him like a tidal wave. Those noises were familiar, safe. Maybe Clint wouldn't bleed to death in his arms, after all.

"Do you hear that?" He didn't even try to hide the euphoria that the newly restored hope brought. "They're almost here. Just…" He looked towards Clint and everything went absolutely, perfectly still.

Clint's eyes were closed.

One moment there was unbearable pain. Then nothing. Then strange dreams. Past and hopes for the future intertwined until it was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn't.

Clint heard gunshots and saw blood. Too much of it. And the bodies…! Friends… Enemies… Some of them deserved to die. Far too many didn't.

And then, through the haze, a familiar face swam through. He frowned and squinted his eyes, barely able to see. Somehow the warm, soft hand holding his helped ground him.

"Hey." To most Natasha's face might've seemed impassive. He knew better. There, buried deep into her steel eyes, sheer terror was catching fire. "Bruce is trying to stabilize you and we're almost back at the base, alright? It'll be okay. You'll be okay." It sounded far more like a plea than it should've, even if only to his experienced ears.

Clint tried to tighten his fingers around hers, to let her know that he undestood. He even tried to nod although he had no idea if he succeeded. Speaking wasn't an option with the oxygen mask covering his face. So he held on the best as he could, in more ways than one. Even when his consciousness fled once more he never once stopped squeezing Natasha's hand.

'It'll be okay.'

'You'll be okay.'

Yes. He would. He still had one or two of his nine lives left.

TBC

A/N: What? We all knew that there wouldn't be 'Age of Ultron' without Hawkeye. (BEAMS)

Soooo… How was it? Any good at all? Like I mentioned this is my first 'Avengers' fic so I'd LOVE to know if it was decent.

In any case, thank you SO MUCH for reading this far! And who knows. Maybe I'll see you again one day?

Take care!