As promised! Look for another one tomorrow!

Prompt: Outnumbered

"Clint, I need you to hear me."

Phil.

Clint blinked, looking around. He was only a little started to see himself standing on the ledge of the base roof. He shivered, looking up at the dark skies and the driving rain. Wind whipped around him, and he wavered.

"Come on, Barton, don't do this."

That was Dan. He always reverted to 'Barton' when he was really worried. Clint wasn't sure why he sounded so worried. Sure, Clint was standing on the ledge of the roof in a rain storm, but his balance was the best there was. He wouldn't fall.

As if to mock him, the wind gusted again and he had to take a step to keep his balance.

Nature was such a little bitch sometimes.

"Can he hear us?"

Todd…

"Don't you dare check out on us, kid."

Jesus, everyone was acting like he was about to jump. He wasn't going to jump. He wasn't even going to fall. He'd walked a damned tight rope in the circus and only ever fallen once during practice.

"Is she there yet?" Dan demanded. Then in a shout, "Well tell her to move her ass!"

"Clint, listen to me. You've gotta keep fighting. Don't ever stop fighting."

Clint looked around, searching for Phil. His handler sounded worried and a little pissed off. He wanted to tell Phil that of course he wouldn't stop. That was the deal they'd made, after all.

"If you'll fight, I'll fight with you."

But what the hell was he supposed to be fighting. He was just standing here in the damn rain.

"Hang in there, kid, she's almost there," Todd said.

Who?

"Hey! Clint! Hey! Open your eyes!" Natasha's voice suddenly washed over him, louder than the others had been.

He frowned, his eyes were open.

A hand tapped firmly against his face, but when he turned his head there was no one there.

Suddenly everybody was talking. Voices tangled together and Clint shook his head, trying to separate them. He couldn't, instead they got louder.

Then one voice rang out clearly, even though it was nothing more than a whisper.

"Wake up, Clint."

Phil.

Something sharp slammed into his chest and pain seized him.

"Wake up!" Phil demanded again, more firmly but with no less affection wrapped in the words.

"Come on, kid!" Todd added.

"Off your ass, Barton!" Dan put in.

"Clint, please…" Natasha whispered.

Suddenly there was fire in his blood and he heard them all again, talking over each other and together. Asking, demanding, that he wake up.

He wasn't even sleeping, but with all of them ganging up on him, he figured he might as well humor them.

He looked up at the dark sky, blinking into the rain.

And told himself firmly,

Wake up.

Clint jackknifed, sucking in a sharp, gasping breath, eyes slamming open.

Strong hands caught his shoulders, keeping him from vaulting to his feet. He almost lashed out. Might have, if his arms didn't feel like they were made of lead.

"Breathe! It's me! It's just me," Natasha's voice whispered over him, low and urgent.

He reached out, forcing his heavy arms to move and tangled a hand in the long sleeve of her catsuit.

"W-what happened?" he demanded roughly, wiping his other hand across his face, expecting to feel the wetness of rain. But finding nothing but a slight glistening of sweat. He frowned down at his hand.

"You were drugged. Knocked you on your ass. Dan talked me through countering it then I hit you with adrenaline."

"Dan?" Clint asked in confusion, looking around, expecting the doctor to be standing somewhere nearby.

"On the comm, Clint," Natasha explained carefully.

"The comm?" he repeated blankly, before suddenly becoming acutely aware of the hard piece of plastic in his ear.

"You with us, kid?" Todd's voice asked carefully.

"Romanoff, what's his heartrate like?" Dan cut in.

"Fast," Natasha answered and Clint belatedly realized her fingers were on his wrist.

Shit, whatever they'd hit him with must have been strong.

"The adrenaline will do that," Dan explained. "Keep an eye on him."

"You know I will," Natasha promised, her hands now steady on his biceps.

That accounted for most of the voices he'd been hearing in whatever weird delusional, dream state he'd been in. But there was still…

"Talk to me, Clint."

Phil.

Clint let out a breath, feeling some of the residual panic and confusion fade away.

"What the hell, Phil?"

"Yeah, you're telling me," Phil replied with a chuckle. "You okay?"

Clint took mental stock. He felt antsy and a bit charged up, but that was the adrenaline. A little foggy, which was probably the result of whatever he'd been dosed with. Still confused though.

"Wanna tell me why I have the whole peanut gallery chattering in my ear?" he asked, nodding at Natasha when she wordlessly asked if he was ready to stand up.

With her steadying him, he somehow made it to his feet without collapsing back down. He let her pull his arm over her shoulder, because he wasn't honestly sure he wouldn't fall the moment he tried to take a step.

"They brought me lunch to the ops room and heard you go down. They've been fluttering around like worried mother hens ever since."

"Hey! Who's fluttering? You're the one that practically overturned the ops table and dropped your lunch on the floor!" Todd protested.

"Who the hell talked her through neutralizing the drug? What would you have done if I wasn't here? Googled it?" Dan argued.

Clint grinned, tuning out the ensuing bickering and focusing on Natasha at his side. He dropped his forehead to rest against her temple wearily.

"I got here as fast as I could, but all the bad guys decided to get in my way," Natasha explained, shifting a little to support him better.

"I'm guessing you made them regret it?"

"Bet your ass," she assured. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

"I'm dizzy and strangely focused and energized and tired all at once."

"Well, let's get out of here then you can sleep it off, or spar it off."

Clint grinned wickedly.

"I can think of something else we can do to work it out of my system."

"HEY! Keep it PG! You're on mission, you degenerates!" Todd mockingly scolded over the line.

Clint pulled his head back and met Natasha's eyes. She grinned and nodded.

"We'll check in when we get back to the safe house. Widow and Hawk out."

They pulled out their ear pieces out and Natasha took them both, tucking them away in a hidden pocket on her suit.

"Ah…silence," Clint said, relieved.

Natasha chuckled and started toward the door, pulling him along with her.

"Come on, Phil will stress out the entire time we're offline."

"Worth it," Clint decided. "The three of them chattering in my head was an experience I'd be happy to never repeat."

"Feeling a little outnumbered?" she guessed with a grin.

"Yeah, in my own head, how does that even happen?"

Natasha patted a hand against his stomach in mock sympathy.

"Poor, drugged, little baby…"

"Do you come with a mute switch?"

This time a finger jabbed sharply into his stomach but all it made him do was laugh.

more tomorrow! :)