Clint's POV this time. With a little sliver of Natasha POV, marked with this ~. Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it!

¹Natasha says 'Idiot' in Russian as an endearing term.

Phil? Phil! Why're you bleeding? What the fuck happened?! Damn Loki and his fucking magic! My heart hurts so much… and I can't help… I can't move… I'm not just going to fucking watch you die, Phil! I'm not just gonna watch…

My hand. It moved. I made it move. /I'm/ moving my hand. Oh crap. Down I go…

"LINT!?" Phil! He's gonna be okay. I'm gonna save him. My only mission. Save my family…

"Phil? Stay with me…" Ouch. Hurts to talk. Hurts to move. Gotta move. Phil. Shit, his hands are cold. How fucking long has he been here… alone. Fuck.

"MOVE, BARTON!" Shit. /Now/ they decide to help.

"It's me…"Jack holes. "Help him please…" Their best fucking agent has been dying for approximately fifteen minutes and they arrive in time to… agh… /TASER/ his goddamn husband! OWWWW!

Phil?! PHIL? Dark… tired… ph-Richie?

"Phil!?" Talking equals wracks of coughing… great.

"Med bay. You back with us?" Nat spoke softly but I could always tell when she's so pissed it's silent. Water, hopefully it's water, Nat always loved springing vodka on me in Medical.

"Looks like it. Need to see Phil. And Richie. You have Richie, right?" /Oh God/.

"No… Phil's being helped. You can't do anything for him other than get your son back. We're all going to bring him back, Clint." /Shit/. We need to go /now/.

"Nat. What the hell are you all waiting for?! Let's get him back and end this!" Still a little dizzy. Great. Doesn't matter.

"You, zagnut."₁

"Clint. You got a suit?" Steve, damn, he looks like hell.

"Yeah."

"Can you fly a jet?" Of course I can. The headache and dizziness's mostly gone. My gut's bottomed out though.

"Yeah."

"Great. We're out in five." I'm bringing him home Phil. Don't you dare fuckin' die on me. I've warned you about that shit. I hope you know I'm okay, it's gonna be okay.

"Clint? Let's go."

Deep breath. "Right behind you…"

He didn't need to know that Phil had checked out twice already. And without major expert help, he wasn't pulling through. SHIELD was doing everything they could; including calling Dr Richards, Tony didn't even argue…

Clint didn't need to know that right now.

The team didn't need to know that right now.

They needed to find Richie and kill Loki.

They needed to end this.

They needed Phil… /I/ need Phil to be fine. I promised him I would take care of his family. But he promised me he wouldn't lie, that I could trust him, he promised he wouldn't die.

Идиот.¹

Well, we're fighting goddamn aliens. Still no sign of Richie. What the hell had Loki set him up to do? I swear if he's put one smarmy finger on my boy he won't be able to object fast enough to me slicing him open from the inside out… /slowly/.

Fucking Chitauri. Knock. Draw. Breathe. Release. Kill. My favourite mantra. Knock. Draw. Breathe. Release. Kill. Kno-.

No arrows. No quiver. Shit.

Dick.

No one can remove my quiver without me knowing or, somehow, doing it fast enough for me to not notice, but they'd still have to know my passcode and locking mechanism.

Only Dick is capable of that. Where is he? Where's Robin? The little shimmer of black and blue brought a memory forward of our uniforms for Loki... 'Like Father, like son…' Where is he?

"Dickie!" The rooftop across from my perch. My boy. No. NONONONONO! Dick! "Shit. Dick! Dickie! Richard?!" I'm running as fast as my legs will carry me, jumping the small distance from building to building, he's on the ground, he's not saying anything. Dick. "I'm here, I'm right here. Dick? Are you okay? Dick! Dickie, you've gotta wake up!" I can't feel a pulse. Why can't I feel a pulse?! Am I hugging him too tight?

"Dad-dy?" just a whisper. Just an acknowledgement. He's okay. My baby boy is okay. /Thank Fuck/.

"It's okay Dickie, Daddy's got you…" I remove the mask of the ridiculous suit Loki has him in and pull him tighter into my chest, standing on shaky legs as my comm crackles through.

"Hawkeye? Position? Hawk-"

"It's fine, Cap. Moved position to locate a team member in need of assistance. Robin has been obtained, healthy and uncompromised." Of course Tony is the first to respond to the news.

"Awesome name. Although, I could think of something better. I didn't know we were giving our kids names? Jenna will totally be the Blue Shaman!" I can hear Cap rolling his eyes.

"No, Tony. And that is a terrible name. Get Robin to safety. Tony, find Loki. Do not approach alone!"

"Yes, /dear/."

"Daddy…"

"It's okay bud. We're gonna go see Peter and JP and Bear… Hold on tight and don't open your eyes until I say so." He doesn't need to see the death and destruction. I need to get him to the tower safely and into the bunker.

"Got a path Birdbrain. Flying in for a handover."

"Confirmed Shell Head. Dickie, I'm gonna give you to Uncle Tony and I'm coming right back, okay?" I just have him back, I don't wanna let him go. I've gotta be the adult here, I've gotta be calm.

"Kay Daddy… Love you." Stronger than me. He gets that from Phil.

"Love you, bud..."

"Uncle Tony for the airlift. Exits on your left, right and rear. Peanuts and Soda. In flight film is The Avengers!" That made Dickie smile as I placed him into Tony's armoured arms and kissed his head.

"Remember what I said. Close your eyes. Stay safe. Love you." I'm not gonna cry.

"Love you. Will Pops be there?" Breathe. He doesn't know… Don't say anything stupid.

"No. He's on the base. Making sure Grandpa Nick is being kept busy. Don't worry, we'll see him soon." Tony answered as I tried to breathe, I don't think I've ever been so thankful.

"Watch my half Locksley." Tony asked, Clint knew he meant Steve.

"No problem." And Tony took my son to the Tower... Shit. They had Cap surrounded and more flying jackasses were gaining on Thor. Time to prove my worth…

"Small, major problem…" Tony's voice squeaked in the comm.

"What?" Damn quiver tweaked my back on landing, again. Stupid window.

"Loki's in the tower. Destroyed the top few floors. I just finished redoing those! JARVIS says the kids are in lock down, Robin vaulted down. They're safe… But not if I don't approach him /immediately/."

"Approach, Iron Man, with /caution/." I could hear the strain in Steve's voice. I don't know how he n' Phil stay so calm where Tony n' I are snarky n' all we speak are 'bad' words in a crisis.

Tony safely removed the Loki issue from the tower with a hand from Big Green. The kids were secure but not if we didn't get a handle on the clusterfuck called a nuke lovingly delivered from the WSC to destroy New York.

Of course Tony had to be Tony and /cling to it for dear life/, riding it /through the fucking portal/. And /of course/ our children had to watch their Father and Uncle presumably fly to his death, including listenin' in on our comms.

"Love ya guys. Stony for life!" Tony, as cool as ever.

"Iron Man! Tony! /Don't/!" Jeez. I cannot listen to this. No one should be listenin' to this.

"DAD!" Fuck! The kids are on our channel. Dammit!

"Shell Head? Do you copy? The portal is closing. Get your tin ass down here! We've got a ninth birthday to throw in forty three days and Peter just called you Dad. Don't screw this up Stark… Come on…" Come home Tony…

"Eyes. Anyone!? Anybody have eyes on Tony?!" Steve is getting antsy, never a good sign. Someone's going down for this and I'm certainly gonna help.

"Wait. Sighted. Iron Man is plummeting. No thrusters or energy. I repeat. .Plummeting/." For Chrissake Tony!

"Hulk catch Tin Man." Fantastic idea from the Hulk himself.

"Tony! Hulk! /Gentle/!" Steve must be meditating more with Bruce to keep this level of calm. A beautiful sight watching a jolly green giant catch a crazed genius in a suit of armour falling from a multi-dimensional portal like a freaking butterfly.

They hit the ground pretty damn hard but the Hulk had a secure grasp on Stark before the crash. Fuck this. I'm not waiting for a damn signal. I'm going down there myself.

"Tony? He's not breathing. Tony! /Anthony Edward Stark. You wake up this minute/!" Steve's tearing up. Shit. CPR. Someone…

"…do CPR!" That sound less hoarse in my head.

"AGHHHHH!" JESUS! Hulk roar equals a very effective CPR manoeuvre.

"Hughhh!" Thank Fuck for that. Tony's coughing and Steve is, mostly likely, crushing the armour with that bear hug…

"/Don't you ever do that again/! What would I damn well do without my tall, dark and handsome?" Well I haven't heard them use that nickname. I'm not gonna ask. It just ends in grossed-out retching. And Steve /swore/, someone call an ambulance!

"Well… Hulk's pretty tall…" Tony half chuckled as Steve thoroughly kissed the life outta him before Nat prudently reminded them of their children and a crazed demi-god to be dealt with.

"Let's sort out our last problem and head out for shawarma!" Tony interjected as we made our way through the rubble and devastation towards the tower.

I could so easily put an arrow through his eye and finish this. /For good/.

But, that's not my decision, plus the kids are right behind us and Phil would probably maim me for slaughtering someone in front of Dickie for any reason.

Phil!

Shit, I… we need to get to the 'carrier. /Now/!

"Dickie! Dick! Come on, bud. We've gotta go." I take my son by the hand as we walk out onto the crushed street.

"I'm driving." Nat's right behind us, I can see the rest of the guys trailing but everything seems a little off. Exhaustion and dehydration and starvation have finally hit home. There is no more fumes or adrenaline to run on… It's gotta last. Twenty minutes… Need to see Phil n' make sure Dickie's okay. Then I can collapse somewhere…

"/Quickly/." I reply as I hoist a stumbling Dickie to my waist. He's so pale. Too pale, almost.

"Daddy… Are we gonna see Pops now?" There's so much in his little blue eyes, too much for an eight year old. He could kill me with those things.

"Yeah, bud, we are. But, you know how Pops and I always said that we can get hurt when we're working?" I watched his cropped sandy hair bob as he nodded and we settled into the backseat of the SUV Nat had obtained, "Well, Dick, Pops got hurt this time. He got hurt pretty bad." I can't tell him Phil hasn't made it. I can barely hold it together when I tell him it's bed time. Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do? Phil don't leave me. /Please./

"It's okay Daddy. Pops promised to be there for my birthday… Pops doesn't break his promises…" I can feel my throat catch as my eight year old son comforts me just like his Pops always promised he'd do… Phil always taught Barry to be cautious and attentive to others, just like a Hawk. Or a little Robin.

"That's right bud." I cough a little to unclog my throat from the tears and pull Dick onto my lap, holding him tight as he replies with his own hug.

Barry clings to my side as we jog through the Helicarrier's halls towards Med Bay. He never liked hospitals, a lot like me; nothing good ever happens in a hospital, well, not any he's been to. I'm going against every fibre of my being, of hospital hatred hoping Phil is fine, that something good has to happen in a hospital. I mean, the kids were born in hospitals. Right?

Phil is fine. He's gonna sit up and snark at me for running off with a demented super villain and taking our son along for the ride too, just because he told us we had 'heart' or some shit like that. God. I love him. I need him. /Fuck, Phil, what the hell were you doing/?!

"Fury..." He's standing outside the doors of ICU, in my way to Phil. Nat's right behind me, you'd think she'd know to shove Nick outta my way. I'm too tired for this shit. I need to see my husband. My son needs his Father.

"Barton… I'm sorry." Nick's not sorry, he's never sorry. He doesn't regret anything. He doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't apologise...

Then he hands me Phil's ring…