Loss and Hope
Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Marvel is awesome, but is not mine. We all know what is theirs and what's not and so here we go.

George followed the ambulance that carried the hitchhiker he'd picked up; he didn't know why he couldn't just let the kid go…yeah he did. It was the wounded look, the look of loss that radiated from him, the pain he was trying so hard to hide. The father in him would have never forgiven himself if he just abandoned the young man now.

He parked his truck in the first spot he could find in the small hospital's lot and moved quicker than his age would suggest, to catch up as they pushed the still unconscious man through the emergency room doors. He heard as the EMT's shouted out vitals, the words diminished breaths and broken ribs were clearly discerned in the medical jargon.

George stopped in the doorway to the room Clint was wheeled into. He watched as the young man was transferred to the treatment bed from the gurney, his mind absently processing the dark stains on the remaining sheet the younger man had been laying on, stepping forward when the attending doctor yelled for security to be called, "What's wrong?" George found himself asking.

"He has a gun on him; protocol requires security to remove it." A nurse replied as she motioned him back.

"He has a knife too, but I don't know where." George added as a security guard entered the room, taking possession of the gun and knife they found strapped to his upper leg, blending almost seamlessly into his pants.

"What the hell is he wearing?" A nurse had attempted to cut Clint's shirt and found the scissors wouldn't work. "Is that body armor?" The doctor looked closely, what had appeared to be a form-fitted shirt was actually SHIELD developed light body armor.

"We need to figure out how to get this off of him." The doctor stated as he began a cursory examination of his patient.

One of the nurses started examining the material, looking for a seam to possible cut along, while another began looking for something stronger to cut the material. "I have glass imbedded in his back" She shouted pushing aside the edges of the jacket Barton had on, the doctor moved to ease his patient onto his side to see what exactly he had going on.

"Son of a bitch" The doctor mumbled as he looked up, call the OR, we need a room now, I have blood seeping around some of these larger shards", though body armor could usually stop bullets, a sharp point could still get through if angled just right and it appeared his patient was unfortunate enough to have several pieces angled just right.

An alarm started to sound as they laid Clint back, "He's not breathing", a nurse called out turning to retrieve an intubation tube before the doctor could request it. George watched as the young man seemed to be losing the fight for his life and the older man silently prayed that he wouldn't as the doctor got the tube down his throat and the bed was wheeled from the room, heading toward the operating room.

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Phil Coulson was an ever observant man, he saw things other didn't, could read people like no one else and that had saved his ass and helped him recruit some very effective people into SHIELD over the years. But if he was totally honest, his greatest accomplishment was saving a self-destructive, nineteen-year old thief and sometimes enforcer of syndicate that was on SHIELD's radar from that life and from himself. He had tracked Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye for months before he caught up with him outside a SHIELD satellite office in South Carolina and realized that day he had not only found the organization one of their greatest assets, but he had found himself something he had never realized he was missing, a family. From day one he felt a paternal instinct toward the boy that had only grown stronger over the years and when Loki had arrived on the planet and 'compromised' Barton, his world nearly stopped. Then the attack on the Helicarrier and reports that Clint was leading it, he knew he needed to stop Loki if only to save Clint. As his mind sorted through everything that had happened an involuntary intake of breath caused him to choke, he'd been stabbed in the back by the demi-God, had felt the blood pool into his chest as he knew the wound was fatal, he could remember pulling the trigger on the prototype weapon, saw Loki fly from sight, then he saw Fury before him. He could remember fear in the older man's eye, something that was never seen. Phil could remember Fury telling him he couldn't die, then his mind flashed to Barton, "Not his fault", he'd whispered, knowing his boss, his friend would know what he meant and then his world went dark.

Now he was coughing as if his lungs had been deprived of oxygen for far too long, he felt hands on his shoulders, another set on his back, turning him on his side. A soft-whispered voice was close to his ears, "Just breathe…slow down and breathe…just listen to my voice…in…out…in…out" His mind tried to follow the directions; he could finally feel his body calming, his lungs beginning to work more effectively.

Several tense moments passed before he felt himself being laid back down, a warm hand took a hold of his, squeezing as another touched his shoulder. "That's it, easy…"

"Natasha…" Phil's raspy voice whispered the name of the young woman who, much like Clint, had somehow wormed her way into his life, into his family.

"Right her…" Natasha's voice cracked, she realized upon her own waking that her emotions were shot to hell and it would be some time before she would be able to wind them back in. "Just take it slow and easy, you gave us all a hell of a scare."

Phil could hear something foreign in her voice, emotion was rare to hear from her, but he'd heard it before, but there was something else, just below the surface…he needed to know what it was, he needed to make that sound go away. "What's wrong?" He whispered again, his eye's trying desperately to blink open, the bright light causing him to scrunch them closed again.

"Get the damn lights," He heard her hiss at someone before the room darkened. "Lights are out, you want to try again?"

Phil took a moment and slowly tried again, this time it didn't feel like his eyes were being gouged out. Blinking he turned his head slowly to focus on the red-haired woman who was now sitting on the edge of his bed. A sad smile broke across her face, "Hi".

"You okay?" He asked her, he could see the paleness in her face, the dark circles under her eyes; even her normally bright red hair looked dull.

"I'm okay." She said quietly as she looked toward the door, Fury having entered behind the nurse and doctor that had rushed in when Phil returned to consciousness and alarms sounded.

"How are you feeling?" The dark-skinned man's voice was quiet for him, but still held that air of authority.

Phil looked at his boss, "Like I was stabbed in the back by a demi-God Sir." He felt Natasha squeeze his hand again; the unusual physical contact was both comforting and worrying at the same time.

"Drop the Sir shit and tell me how you fell." Nick stepped forward, the doctor still hovering to the side.

"Back and chest feel tight, head still a little fuzzy…I died…" Phil looked at the man next to him, then glanced toward the doctor, who finally stepped forward.

"Yes Agent Coulson, you were down for about thirty minutes before we were able to bring you back." The physician relayed.

"How?" Phil was trying to figure out how he'd been brought back and was seemingly unaffected, except the dull ache of his upper body.

"That's not important right now; the important thing is you're back." Fury glared at the doctor, stopping him from explaining, the director would do that later, when the more pressing issue at hand was dealt with and it wasn't something he was looking forward to telling his newly resurrected agent.

Now Phil was starting to get agitated, there was something that was being kept from him, "What's going on? Something's wrong," He shifted his arms, wanting to sit up, "Can someone raise this damn bed." He could feel his emotions starting to cloud things.

Natasha used the controls to raise the bed, allowing Phil a more upright position. It was then, finally getting a good view of the room that he realized one very important thing, "Where's Barton?" In that moment the atmosphere of the room changed, causing his chest to constrict that had nothing to do with his unnaturally healing wound. Images from the video feed of when Loki had arrived filled his mind, the fear of what the staff had done to the young man he cared so much about nearly freezing his soul. His breathing was increasing, his body started to move of its own accord as he attempted to get up off the bed, "WHERE THE HELL IS CLINT?"

Fury and Natasha's arms reached to keep Phil in the bed, but he would have none of it, Coulson managed to get to his feet, a wobble shaking his balance as he glared at Nick.

"We don't know."

"You don't know?" Coulson looked at him disbelieving, was Loki still out there, did he still have Clint under his control. "Where's Loki?"

"Loki's in custody, Thor has control of his brother now." Fury explained.

"Then where is…" Phil felt a moment of light-headedness, his hand coming up as he wavered; Nick grabbed his shoulders and forced him back down on the bed. A looked crossed Coulson's face the likes Fury had only seen one other time, the one time they had all believed Barton was dying, "is he dead?"

The injured man watched his boss's shoulders drop, a sense of defeat pouring from the man, "We don't know…he's off the grid…I'm sorry Phil but we just don't know."

A/N: don't know hospital procedure for someone coming in with a weapon on them, so I improvised.