Clint stood on the edge of the tallest building on the block, his eyes darting along the streets to take in enemy locations and formation patterns. The civilians had cleared out quickly, so he only had his fellow Avengers to keep an eye on; letting out a breath, he released the string of his bow, knowing the aim was true. The arrow sailed silently, deadly into the target below; it dropped just as fast and Rogers gave him a salute for the help before going back to fight another monster.

Tapping his comm. he called, "Thor, some of them are regrouping down on sixth. Watch it though, I think these bastards actually learn from their mistakes."

He continued firing, getting off two shots, before a screech similar to nails on a chalkboard turned his attention behind him; they could add mad climbing skills to the creatures' attributes, as four of them pulled themselves over the concrete ledge that was his perch. Tony could, and probably had at some point, explained how they were able to see to orient themselves and climb up buildings, but he had perfected the skill of tuning Stark out and all the unnecessary scientific stuff that wasn't how to kill the monster of the week. So he was dealing with these things mostly blind, which really didn't bother him all that much; same old, same old. They were strange, that much could be said; faceless in a way, with glossy black skin pulled tight to show every bone and muscle. It was more than he had ever wanted to see and the only thing that made him take the things seriously were the massive claws that dragged on the ground; specifically, the claws that were dragging themselves towards him.

They were too close to take them out with individual shots; Barton could get one, perhaps two, but the ones left would be on him before he had a chance to fire anymore arrows. Anything in his arsenal that could take them out in one shot was a bit too effective for such close proximity, he'd probably end up killing himself in the mess; he was already precariously balancing on the edge. Glancing behind him, Clint hoped that someone was free to pick him up and as it turned out, there was no one; he was going to have to get himself out of this one. Which was perfectly fine with him, four cronies were not going to take him down, no matter how ugly they were.

"Position compromised, relocating," informed Hawkeye over the radio, a plan already in mind of how he was going to escape.

Twisting the dial on his bow, it only took a moment before the arrow with the grappling hook attached was in his hand and he was running towards the side of the building. He fired it into the side of the building and proceeded to repel down to the lower adjacent building. The plan was simple, at least by his standards; he would climb down eight stories to the next building and then fire an exploding arrow, taking the creatures out. After that, he would take the fire escape down to street level; easy as pie. Well it would have been, Clint thought as he found himself in freefall; it would have, if the creatures hadn't used their extensive arm length and damn claws to cut through the rope he was using.

He was halfway down when the rope went slack, sending shivers of pain through him as he hit the roof and bounced. Rolling with the motion, he came to a stop in the far corner; a quick damage report revealed that his arms were burned with road rash and every muscle protested the simple act of breathing. Not his most graceful decent ever, but it could've been worse. Correction, it was getting worse; four loud thuds had him clamoring to his feet despite the resistance his body put up. His new friends had made the leap and were closing in. Although, he'd be lying if he wasn't a little jealous that they were faring better than he had.

Hawkeye rolled towards his bow, scooping it up in one fluid motion and with his back against the wall, he released an arrow. The creature dropped dead and the other three crouched down in a defensive posture, releasing a horrific howl at their outrage; he loosed a second arrow and watched helplessly as the nimble, on guard, creature twisted out of its path with impressive speed. The creatures could definitely adapt, which meant that this was quickly going south for him; he gripped his bow tighter, knowing that it was going to come down to hand to hand. Normally, he wouldn't have a problem with that, but the rates of success were shrinking as the razor sharp claws his opponents had, gleamed in the afternoon light; this was going to be rough and he knew it.

Coulson felt his stomach drop as he watched Hawkeye go over to the side of the building; he had tried to redirect another Avenger to his aid, but everyone was too neck deep in their own battles to help. Phil took a deep breath; if the team couldn't help, then he would. He had watched Clint die once and he'd be damned before he let it happen again.

Unholstering his sidearm, he ran up the fire escape and took the stairs two at a time; the vicious cries of the creatures pushed him faster and little to say, he had no idea how he was going to do this. But he didn't care, as it seemed like he was never going to get there; instead of formulating a plan, his mind played out every terrible scenario that could possibly await him and how many ways he could see the archer die again. When he finally reached the top, he was relieved; he marveled at the sight of three bleeding and broken creatures strewn across the rooftop.

Clint blocked a swipe from his final foe with his bow, trying to keep the spittle sprayed in face by the hissing thing out of his eyes, irritated that the damned thing hadn't gone down yet. Noise on the fire escape drew his attention and he looked to see Coulson, standing there with his gun drawn.

Hawkeye's attention was only diverted for a moment, but the creature exploited it all the same, massive claws ripping through the archer's back and side as he screamed in pain. His knees buckled, the creature forgotten in lieu of reaching out to try and stop the excruciating pain that pulsed through him. The world faded to the sound of his own beating heart, which was racing in his ears. He blindly reached for his bow, the gravel roof the only thing felt as he swept over it, trying to find the familiar weapon.

Clint flinched at the successive bangs that echoed through the air, as Coulson emptied his clip into the creature, in a desperate bid to turn its attention away from his downed agent. The black thing pulled away from the wounded body and scuttled towards the opposite corner; a few bullets seemed to have found their mark, but most had been dodged like the archer's arrows.

"Status report Barton!" demanded Coulson, rushing to the man's side; his hands roamed and fluttered over the gashes, trying to stem the bleeding and assess the damage.

A low hiss escaped through Clint's gritted teeth, his hands shaking as he tried to fumble with his bow; he had to get Phil out of there before the creature came back, which it surely would. He couldn't be responsible for getting the man killed again. Not again. "Need to get out of here Coulson. Go."

Coulson ignored him, deflecting the weak attempts of the man trying to push him away, he wasn't leaving; if they were getting out of here, it was going to be together. Clint's blood covered fingers caught Phil's attention as they fumbled with the dial on the bow; the quiver whirled, locking the arrow head into place before the roar of the creature descended on them. It was attacking again and Hawkeye wouldn't be able to reach the arrow on his back, let alone make the shot in his condition.

The agent pulled the arrow free from the quiver and wrapped his arm around Clint's waist; the creature lurched forward to sink its teeth into its prey and Coulson stabbed the arrow into its neck. Screaming, the monster pulled back far enough for Phil to drag Barton towards the fire escape; he tried to keep the trail of blood in their wake out of mind as he pried the bow from the man's fingers, pressing the activation button for the explosive arrow head.

Coulson had just gotten Barton over the edge, onto the fire escape, when the shock wave from the explosion swept over him. The force was enough to knock Phil over the ledge. His head connected with the metal railing with a sickening crack, the last thing he saw before succumbing to the darkness was the impressive form of Iron Man speeding towards him.