The street itself trembling under her feet as a nearby building collapsed. Simply dissolved apart at the mortar, raining down brick and sheetrock and assorted office equipment. Natasha cast an anxious glance towards it - not because she felt in danger from any of the falling debris, but because it was the building Clint had been perched on, sending lethal arrows down into the mob of attackers they both now strongly suspected were part of a Hydra splinter cell.
"Hawkeye!" She barked, expecting to see his familiar features on one of the faceless figures looming through the smoke. Instead the nearest two of them lunged for her, and she sidestepped and smashed their heads together without even looking at them, still scanning for her partner. She touched her coms button and repeated the single-world command more loudly. "HAWKEYE!"
Planets may have aligned obediently at the sound of that voice, but Clint Barton didn't respond.
Despite herself, Natasha was getting more than a touch worried now. Clint was tough, there was no debating that. And with all his equipment, it shouldn't have been a problem for him to escape a collapsing building.
Should it?
Cursing and firing bullets remorselessly, discarding each gun when she ran out of clips and pulling a new one from a hidden holster, Natasha fought her way through the wreckage.
"Clint!" She tried again, breaking protocol (what a surprise for her) by calling him by real name instead of code. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to keep the tension out of her voice. Reaching a fallen pile of bricks, she jumped on top for a better view, squinting through the hazy air.
Where was he?
"Yeah, keep your bulletproof leather shirt on." A moment later Clint landed gracefully on the balls of his feet at her side, jerking free the grapnel arrow he'd swung down with. Natasha took one second to punch his shoulder. Hard. Clint winced. "Ow.' He protested mildly as Natasha shot the next incoming enemy between the eyes. They were starting to get thicker, and there were more bullets being fired now, not just from Natasha's end.
"I don't want to alarm anyone, but we're a little outnumbered." Natasha reported via her comms link.
"Hardly seems fair, does it?" Clint casually fired an explosive-tipped arrow into the nearest clump of attackers. A small fireball blossomed and gave them a gap of a few brief seconds before the next wave. He braced his back to hers so they could cover one another.
"Is this all a big joke to you?" Demanded Natasha over her shoulder, making sure that each one of her six knives, hung at various points of her body, were all within easy reach. She had a feeling they'd be needing them soon.
"We'll laugh about this someday." Clint assured her, and reached for another arrow.