Natasha feels like hell. And Barton sure looks like it. Unlike their counterparts, neither have superhuman strength nor super high tech armor. So a punch is a punch, a kick is a kick and a fracture is a fracture. She holds her ribs gingerly as she takes in shallow breaths. It isn't the first time she's cracked a one, so she sucks it up. There are more important things to worry about.
Dr. Banner's alter ego was instrumental in moving the larger debris to free people trapped in basements and vehicles. Now that the NYPD and FDNY were here, the rescue operations were finally getting somewhere and the Hulk was finally allowed to take a break. She pushes a few strands of hair out of her face as she surveys the remaining personnel.
From behind her, she hears crunching gravel. She recognizes the footsteps. "That was nothing like Budapest." Clint is rubbing a dirty rag across his face in a futile attempt to feel clean again. There is so much blood that it mixes together to form sticky patches across his body. Some is his, some hers. Some is from rescued victims and some of it from the dead Chitauri. Overall, he feels like the dumpster in a hospital alleyway.
Natasha smirks but doesn't turn around. The less movement the better. "Sure it was. I did all the work while you stood around posing."
"Funny."
She sighs heavily and turns towards him. "No, not really."
He shakes his head in agreement. "No. Not at all."
It's sobering once they get a good look at each other. Unfathomable and inescapable, the reality hits them again. They spent the last few hours defending the world against an alien invasion. And the fight is written across their bodies in the form of broken bones. Of dark bruises and soon to be scars.
"Ribs again?" He doesn't look at her as he continues to scrub his hands with the dirty towel. "What is that, 4th time?" Natasha rolls her eyes.
"Don't think I didn't hear you hobble over here."
"Come on, let's go find the med tent. We can report back to Director Fury from there." She's about to protest but she doesn't really know what she's going to say. They've done all they can and from the looks of it, emergency services can handle it for now.
She takes a moment to look back on the devastation. When she turns back to Clint, she's got a small smirk on her face.
"I can check aliens off my bucket list." He smiles back at her, remembering this little game.
"Right. Now all we need are unicorns, vampires, witches, flying pigs..."
"We knocked the pigs out that time in Germany."
"That did not count."
They continue down the list of impossibilities, although the word has understandably lost some of its meaning.
