A/N: Ya know, I THOUGHT that I'd manage to update a couple of days ago. I ALMOST updated last night but after staying up until four A.M. I decided that I'd need to work on a couple of scenes when I'd be a bit more conscious. (chuckles) BUT, here it is, at last!

First of all… I'm absolutely blown away, here! Our favorite archer sure has a HUGE amount of friends. THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all the reviews, listings and love! Let's prove the world, once and for all, that Hawkeye isn't the Avenger no one cares about (because yeah, I've actually faced someone claiming such – and saw red)!

Awkay, because stalling's just rude – I'm sure Steve would agree… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

THIS MAY GIVE A COUPLE OF CHILLS to those suffering from claustrophobia or fear of the dark…

A Hawk's Great Plunge (DEAF CLINT)

When one makes it through a massive fight with a big Hydra cell and comes out a winner, that person would usually call themselves lucky. And at the end of something like that the absolutely last thing one expects is to face an earthquake. The luck of the Avengers struck again.

They were at a high risk area. When Thor brought his hammer down and Steve blocked a horrific attack with his shield it was the last straw. The ground roared out of sheer rage, as though Mother Nature herself had been furious over the acts of violence. Then the whole world seemed to be shaking. Despite everything they'd ever faced and been through it was one of the most terrifying experiences in their lives.

"… 't… 'asha… Natasha…!"

Natasha frowned with irritation. It sounded like the voice had been calling out to her for a while but she didn't want to get up yet. She was too sore and tired. When a hand tried to touch her shoulder she delivered an instinctive kick and felt a warm brush of satisfaction upon hitting solid flesh. There was a sharp gasp of breath and someone stumbled. Soon, however, the presence looming uncomfortably close returned.

"… probably a concussion … waking up … you …?"

Natasha shivered when a second voice echoed in her ear. That's right… She had an ear comm… "… alright … a few more Hydra …"

Well. That definitely cleared Natasha's head a little. With her usual stubbornness she fought until she was able to open her eyes crack. She frowned at the blurry blob filling her line of vision until she was able to distinguish Steve's worried face. Was that bruising…?

"… the he' happened …?" She didn't care if what came out was closer to drunken slurring than the firm command for answers she was aiming for. She needed to know. Because she was hurting and wanted to make someone suffer for it.

It was chilling that Steve gave her no chiding over the use of such language. The look in his eyes… Something was wrong. "There was an earthquake. None of us saw it coming, there was no time to react." His voice was hoarse. Was that blood staining his clothes…? "Good news is that whatever of the Hydra here survived has either been taken care of or just left."

"The bad?" Natasha croaked, hating the fact that she felt and sounded like she'd swallowed a large cactus.

"Everything else, pretty much." Steve was basically slumped beside her and his leg definitely wasn't bent correctly. But at least he didn't seem to have any life threatening injuries. The soldier swallowed hard, appearing nauseous. "We… We're a mess. Big Guy… got pretty excited. Thor's trying to negotiate but he'll probably need a lullaby. Stark's suit's battered but he's doing the best he can to…" The Captain trailed off.

"To what?" Natasha felt, very literally, how a spike made of solid ice pierced her stomach. The dread seeped in along, burning like lava. "Clint?" She sounded both perfectly coherent and absolutely furious. Anger was safe, familiar. It kept her alive for over the first half of her life thus far. She was also a stone cold realist. She didn't panic when Coulson told her that Clint had been compromised. She wasn't about to get hasty now, either. Even if every alarm bell in her was blaring.

Steve's jawline tightened to what had to be a painful extend. He refused to meet her eyes. "We… never found him, afterwards."

There are moments that become etched permanently to a person's mind, like scar tissue.

Natasha was most likely concussed and the whole situation itself was beyond overwhelming. So it was no wonder that she'd failed to notice something at first. But right in that moment her gaze traveled downwards, spotting one of Steve's hands. She saw what was hidden partially behind the soldier's back.

It was Clint's broken, blood stained bow.

It was over.

There were no more enemies to take care of. No more fights to pick. There was only silence and stillness. Tony did well with neither. Especially when the lack of action meant that he was forced to think.

He didn't want to think about that one last gasp of Clint's, which came tauntingly through the ear comm. He didn't want to think about the nauseating fact that his friend never had the chance to voice actual final words. After everything they'd faced, after everything that idiot had gone through, a freaking earthquake…!

Tony wanted to scream because he definitely had every right to do so. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny part of him he preferred pretending didn't exist would've liked to cry, too. But he hadn't done that since he was a kid and wouldn't start now. Even if the lump building up in his throat threatened to drive him insane.

"Have you found anything yet?" Thor's voice boomed to his ear, startling him back into action.

Tony shook his head. Then realized how pointless it was and ended up doing it again. "Nah, not yet. The suit's a goner. It's refusing to detect any traces of life."

The five seconds of silence that followed were absolutely, crushingly heavy. The sound Thor emitted… It was nothing human. "Agent Barton…"

It's curious how a person's own pain can deafen them from hearing another's. Tony's blood boiled while sheer, overwhelming rage conquered all other emotional responses. "It's Clint! And just… Just save it, okay? You wanna give up? Fine! But I don't give up on my friends!" With those harsh words, which he predicted he'd regret in about ten seconds, Tony tore off his ear comm, tossed it to the ground and stomped on it as hard as he could.

'Drama queen', a voice that sounded suspiciously lot like Clint teased in his head.

Tony gasped. Really, honestly gasped. Like a man drowning on dry land. Then did what he'd always done best. He held up his chin defiantly, his eyes hardening and sharpening, and pulled in a painful breath. Then got to work.

Just like he reported to Thor his suit was too damaged to function. It kept him alive as the ground around him shook and crumbled but even it had limits. Most of it was, sadly, ready for a junkyard. But at least he was still able to cover his hands with iron before he half sat, half slumped to the ground and began tossing aside the stones and debris, ignoring the pain pulsating everywhere.

It was a grim task. Tony knew, in the back of his aching head, that even if he by some miracle found his friend he'd most likely face a dead body. But he absolutely refused to give in. Returning home without one of them… It was absolutely unacceptable.

It was a small mercy in a merciless situation that he wasn't aware of the tears running down his cheeks.

Steve wasn't worried about Natasha's reaction. He was incredibly worried about the fact that she didn't give one. She helped him to the nearest possible safe spot without saying a word and made sure that he was as comfortable as humanly possible without a flicker of a change in her expression. Then, just as his lips parted, she was walking away.

Only then did her façade crack. Her fists balled so hard that they began to shake and her shoulders appeared so tense that it had to hurt. When she finally spoke her clipped voice didn't sound right. "Keep reaching out for him. I'll go and take care of Big Guy." To most those words would've sounded cold but the Captain knew her reasoning. While Hulk was at large there was no way a medical crew would be able to land. Their own jet was in shambles. If Clint was still somehow alive the medical crew was his only chance to survive. To Natasha there was no 'if'.

It didn't matter how small the chances were. That Clint would've never, ever stayed missing and silent if the man was able to move or talk. Steve recognized it as denial. But unlike most people thought even Captain America was only human. He'd already lost too many comrades and friends. Not again…

Steve's hand shook barely noticeably as he lifted it to his ear comm. "Hawkeye, do you copy?" Suddenly it struck him that there were no living enemies nearby. There was no use for codenames anymore. His voice cracked the tiniest bit when he continued. "Clint, are you there? Clint?" And he kept calling out, tirelessly, even after his voice grew hoarse. "Clint?"

There was nothing but darkness and silence. So heavy and all-consuming that it was suffocating. Yet he knew that he was awake. He could feel his heart pounding. And the pain… It was horrifying. He tried to recognize the source but couldn't focus enough. He was fairly certain that he wouldn't have been able to move even if he dared to.

Clint swallowed hard and gasped when the simple action left him breathless.

His hearing aid… He lost it during the fall. And wherever he'd ended up landing on he was completely covered by layers of dirt, stone and maybe even debris. Even if he wasn't injured there would've been no escape on his own. So he was trapped with the silence and darkness as his only companions.

Clint tried to scream but had no idea if he managed to produce even a wheezing sound. He clawed the ground underneath him and then the solid, stone hard weight pinning him down out of sheer frustration, desperate to get anywhere, but only managed to damage his fingernails. Still he didn't give up, even when he was left panting furiously and agonizingly for a breath.

Clint honestly imagined that it couldn't possibly get any worse from there. But once again fate succeeded in surprising him. Because choking in between two attempts of a holler, he felt the water that was rising rapidly.

Thor breathed hard, faster than would've been normal. His hands shook and no matter how tightly he balled his fists he couldn't hide the unsteadiness. He gritted his teeth so hard that it hurt, even if it didn't help any. He wanted to strike the ground with his hammer, repeatedly, but knew that it would've caused far more harm than good. He'd done enough damage for one day.

/ In the heat of the battle Thor growled and smashed his hammer down, unleashing all his fury on the ground. The enemies flew. The Asgardian had exactly ten seconds to bask in the warm glow of satisfaction. Until he heard a gasp through his ear comm.

Thor's heart almost certainly shuddered and he turned his gaze without a though. His gaze locked with Clint's. The archer was high on top of the Hydra base. As the ground began to roar Thor could see his friend's lips moving but wasn't able to hear a word, even with the device pressed into his ear. The only thing he registered with certainty was the fact that for the first time since the crushing aftermath of Loki he saw fear in Clint's eyes.

That look was the last thing Thor had the time to register before the ground swallowed up Clint. /

Thor didn't realize what he was doing until he realized that he stood where Tony was going through the chaos site with the air of despair. The hammer wielder lifted his chin. "I wish to assist. He is my friend, too." He wasn't ready to use a past tense just yet.

Tony looked surprised when the dust and bruise covered billionaire gave him a look. Then understanding seemed to dawn. "I know." The inventor didn't do apologies. That came close enough. "So let's continue to work."

They had no other tools but Tony's iron covered hands and Thor's hammer. Everything else was destroyed in the quake with their jet. And they were in for a hopeless task. Neither cared.

Thor's jawline tightened. "This isn't the right spot." He nodded ahead. "That… is the place where I saw him fall."

For a second, just one, something akin to heartbreak flashed in Tony's eyes. For that horrible moment the billionaire clearly considered the unthinkable. Then, with the usual Stark stubbornness, the man forced a stiff grin and nodded. "See? We're making progress already."

Bruce had woken up post-Hulk enough times to recognize it. He was exhausted in far more ways than one. Sore. And so horribly angry that he wanted to scream, at the top of his lungs. But this time something was different. He could feel it in his bones as his eyes flew open and darted around, taking in a far too familiar sight of absolute destruction. Of dead bodies. He swallowed, feeling horribly sick. "Did… Did I… The Other Guy…?"

"No. An earthquake did." Something was off about Natasha's voice. "Sit up carefully."

Bruce figured out why as soon as he began to push himself up. Glass along with sharp pieces of debris and stone were everywhere. It was oddly, eerily quiet.

Bruce looked at Natasha. She was bruised and had cut on her head but she was sitting beside him firmly. Her expression was unreadable but she was far paler than usual. He knew better than to ask how she was. "Is everyone okay?"

Natasha nodded stiffly. She refused to even glance towards him. "Rogers broke a leg and some ribs but you know how quickly he heals. Thor's bruised. Stark's suit is a goner but the idiot made it with just bruises."

That was all very relieving. But Bruce's chest tightened at the name which wasn't mentioned. "And Clint?" He was beginning to feel sick and the trembling taking over him wasn't the usual post-transformation one.

Natasha's jawline tightened. "He's missing." She folded her arms to her chest. "You're not an actual doctor but the closest thing we have for now. He's going to need you when we find him. How clear is your head?" Only someone who knew her very well was able to catch the words buried underneath her steel hard tone. 'Because mine isn't and I may need you.'

"Clear enough." His chest felt unnaturally tight and he didn't like the feeling that his control was slipping. He couldn't afford to let his control slip, especially now. He owed his friends more than that. But first he'd need to get up somehow. He bowed his head and licked his lips. "I, ah… A little help, to get up?" He was always a bit… shaky, after coming back. He hated it, especially now that Clint needed him to be strong, composed and competent.

Without hesitation – whenever did the famous Black Widow hesitate, anyway? – Natasha helped him up, not offering a word. She seemed to recognize the exact moment when he felt ready to stand up on his own and let go. They took in the devastation around them with somber eyes, two soldiers who'd seen too many battlefields. Two monsters who'd ended up caring too much.

"Let's find him", Natasha decided at last, in a voice that would've been without emotions to most.

"Let's find him", Bruce agreed.

They both knew that they were most like looking for their friend's body. So be it. They weren't about leave Clint behind.

Neither was surprised to discover that Tony and Thor were already working busily. No words were exchanged as they joined the do. What good would words have done? Rain was falling heavily while they carried out their grim duty.

Clint could feel the water rising. It wasn't pouring in but it was fast enough to tell him that he was in a deep trouble. Was it a broken water pipe or something from the nature itself? At least it didn't smell of anything suspicious. His heart was hammering out of control while he fought to keep his breathing in check.

Panicking won't help, he struggled to remind himself. Panic won't help… Panic won't …

In the middle of that rant he felt something soft yet solid brush his arm. Without a doubt that something had been coaxed into motion by the rising water. Clint knew, even without a hint of light, exactly what it was. He wanted to throw up, desperately.

Someone's corpse… A friend or enemy? He knew that statistically, there had been a lot more enemies but… What if it was Natasha? Or Steve? Or Tony? Or…?

God, what if he was the only one still left alive? Was that why no one was coming for him? What happened to the others? Were they alright? Or down there with him, in what'd soon be his watery grave?

Clint couldn't feel his own wheezing breath. But it felt like his chest had been set on fire. He gasped and felt a groaning sound bubbling in his throat. He continued to scream, to holler out, no matter how hopeless he knew it to be. Even if he suspected that he was barely able to produce a sound. He kept calling out in a desperate hope that there was still someone left to hear him.

Clint wasn't afraid to die. But not here…! Not like this…! Not when he had no idea what happened to his friends…!

Clint's whole body was trembling in the freezing cold water when he closed his eyes. Didn't he close them? It was so hard to tell. He focused whatever little strength and breath he had left. And he screamed.

The solemn group above was losing hope very quickly. They had a massive area to cover and absolutely no guarantee of what they'd find. They kept calling out to him, dug long past the point where their fingers bled.

And then they heard the scream. Quiet and hoarse but real. Right underneath the layers of debris they were working on.

They tripled their efforts. Dug through, no matter how much it hurt. Kept searching. And finally, finally they had a view to down below. Quite quickly the joy and relief evaporated.

The debris, along with Clint, had fallen to a cave that'd most likely been a secret tunnel to the enemy base. It was a small miracle that the whole chaos hadn't crushed Clint entirely. Still a horribly large chunk of concrete lay on the archer, effectively pinning him down. They couldn't tell for sure where all the water was coming from but it was rapidly filling the space that'd been closed by the earthquake.

That was their Hawkeye. With some enemy's dead body floating sickeningly nearby. As they stared water covered his face.

Clint didn't have the strength to stay awake anymore. He tried to pry his eyes open, to catch even just a tiny glimpse of hope. But he was too tired. Too cold. Too numb. Too far gone.

He was going to die this time, wasn't he?

Clint wasn't coherent enough to be terrified of or saddened by that thought. His sluggish mind accepted it as a solid fact, even if his body was by some miracle unwilling to let go quite yet. The waterline had already reached his chin and soon it'd cover his mouth, then his nose.

Clint's mom told him, once, that when he was born he didn't make a sound. Didn't make a fuss. It was befitting, somehow, that in the moments he fully expected to be his last he didn't make a much of a sound, either.

Just a small yet greedy gasp.

When the water eventually closed in on his nose Clint squeezed his eyes shut. Or maybe he just lost consciousness, it was impossible to tell. He never got to the chance to see the stream of light that flooded in just seconds before his team peered into his prison.

At first the team stared. "CLINT!" It was impossible to tell which one of them screamed. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe they just imagined hearing it.

Before the rest of them could even twitch Thor jumped in. He barely registered the cold of the water. The weight of his clothes was nothing. All he focused on was the sight of his friend down below, just floating. Lifeless.

Thor's chest burned from lack of proper breath. Sheer determination pushed him forward when he reached his friend. Removing the debris took a couple of attempts, even with his strength. He cut his hand in the process and the sharp, angry slash of ache was enough to distract him from wondering if removing the additional weight would do more harm than good. Clint wouldn't survive much longer under water. That was the most acute concern.

It was impossible to tell just yet how badly Clint had been injured. Thor did his best to grab his friend as gently as he could before they started the seemingly endless journey towards the surface. He kept holding on, furiously ignoring how still and cold the archer felt.

The chaos began as soon as they broke the surface. They were hauled to dry, solid land and before he managed to process what was about to happen Clint was torn away. Gently yet firmly. While Thor fought to catch his breath Bruce and Natasha began to work on the archer. They were stationed so that Thor didn't have a clear view to his unmoving friend but the grim looks on the duo's pale faces spoke far too clearly. They were talking in clipped tones while operating hurriedly but for some reason the hammer wielder couldn't comprehend the words. Tony stood a couple of steps away staring at the action, absolutely no color on his face and his arms twitching angrily, helplessly, at his sides. The billionaire was used to always being at the very heart of fixing the problems, of doing something, and knew well that there was nothing he could do now. Thor understood the feeling all too clearly.

"Thor?" Steve's voice brought him rapidly back to focus. How the soldier had managed to maneuver his way there with a broken leg at all, let alone unnoticed, was a mystery to the Asgardian. The larger man couldn't bring himself to look away from the duo working on a still horribly limp Clint but he heard the other's worry. "Are you okay?"

Thor nodded, deciding not to waste any of the precious breath he'd managed to obtain on useless words. Several agonizing minutes later, when med-evac finally arrived, the large, unshakable man brushed his own cheek nearly tenderly with two fingers. They came back moist.

Nick Fury was a man who didn't show emotions. Or experience a lot of them. In his line of job emotions were little more than an unnecessary complication. Still, when he heard how the latest Avengers mission ended, he was suspiciously quick to go and check the troupes. It wasn't about worry, of course. Only practical. He'd received a quite large amount of medical reports. That information kept spinning around in his head while he observed the group gathered to a painfully bright medical room.

Bruce had been protected by the Big Guy. Like the others he'd been digging and clawing the ground until his hands needed bandages. The scientist sat on a bench some distance away from the rest of the group, his face buried into his hands. Fury knew that in his case the damage was buried inside.

Thor had been lucky enough to make it through with cuts, bruises and lacerations. Well, lucky is a relative term. Judging by the way Thor's hands were shaking and that morose expression the Asgardian didn't consider himself very lucky.

Steve, who lay on a hospital bed, had broken four ribs, along with his leg from three places. The soldier was already healing quickly. In a few weeks he'd be alright if he'd actually allow himself the time to rest and recover.

Tony suffered a heavy amount of bruising. Arms, legs, chest, back and stomach area… Fury suspected that the billionaire would be black and blue when the damage would begin to show. The Iron Man's hands, however, suffered the most. The malfunctioning suit parts hadn't protected his fingers and knuckles properly when he worked on searching for Clint. There was lot of skin damage and two fingers had been broken.

Natasha had a very nasty concussion and a couple of cracked ribs. Still she sat on her bed firmly, her expression even and her posture straight, ready for battle. She wouldn't relax until the final member of the team would be where she could see him.

If things had been little less dire Fury might've had the time and focus to feel very proud of them. Today was a yet another fine example of how the Avengers had grown to function as a team. They succeeded, regardless of the fact that nature gave them a nasty surprise. Despite their injuries they worked tirelessly. They managed to save one of their own. They refused to leave Clint behind.

Yes, Clint…

The archer had a very impressive list of broken bones. As he read through the immediate report Fury couldn't even recognize the names of most of them. Internal bleeding was also mentioned. Considering the amount of time the Hawk spent underwater a fast approaching pneumonia wasn't much of a surprise. Clint had been rushed to an emergency surgery as soon as the man was brought in and now, four hours later, he hadn't emerged.

Yet the team was waiting, forcing themselves to stay awake. Loyally, stubbornly. Boneheads, all of them.

"So…", Fury stated when he finally stepped in. His eyes scanned through the battered, utterly exhausted faces. "Would anyone like to explain to me what happened?" He'd seen a hasty report but he would've very much appreciated a more conclusive version. At the blank expressions aimed his way the one-eyed man fought back a heavy sigh. "Alright, then."

None of the remaining Avengers commented when Fury took a seat beside them. They sat in an absolute silence, waiting for news on the missing member of their ridiculous family. Waiting for the hellish day to end.

For eighteen hours Clint's biggest threat was the treacherous internal bleeding. Then came the pneumonia and the raging fever. There were several times when his body nearly gave out.

When the most urgent problems passed by the archer was left with the broken bones. And a significant amount of damage to his back. It took a week before his primary doctor finally dared to proclaim that the Hawk would most likely walk.

Clint was oblivious to the whole drama. He slept through those hellish twelve days, first knocked out by medication, then gathering his strength. Waiting. The team waited as well. Kept constant watch. Barely dared to sleep. Well, at least for once they stayed close to medical attention.

Natasha sighed and rubbed her face tiredly with one hand. "You're late, just so you know." She didn't manage to sound as accusing as she wanted to. She slipped on Clint's hearing aid several days ago, as soon as the machinery around him lessened enough to allow it. At the moment she could still only hope that her words somehow found their way through, all the way to his thick skull. "We talked about being late after Oslo, remember? I thought that you'd know better by now." So what if her voice broke, just a little bit? She was tired, angry and irritated.

"Oslo?" Steve inquired in a sleepy voice.

Natasha's eyes narrowed. Her hand squeezed Clint's just a little tighter. "You were supposed to be resting."

"So were you." Steve shifted and attempted to scratch his leg. Judging by the grunt he made he didn't quite succeed. "So… Oslo?"

Natasha didn't want to relive those events. Clint seemed to sense as much. Because just as her lips opened the Hawk's hand twitched in hers.

Much later – when he was able to stay awake for over half an hour at one go and walking – Clint claimed that Natasha irritated him back to the waken world. But that was indeed much later. As it was, three hours after the twitching fingers a nurse walked into the room and froze by the doorway.

The entire Avengers team was there. Tired and injured but recovering. And finally, finally sleeping. Well, most of them.

Steve lay on his own bed snoring softly, one arm under his head that'd been turned towards the archer. Thor had chosen a chair that had to be horribly uncomfortable for someone of his height and stretched his legs the best as he cold. At the moment the Asgardian was asleep with a serene look on his face, neck bent to a position he'd pay for after waking up. Bruce had picked a station spot a deliberate distance away from his most fragile friend, just in case. Careful to have a clear view to all the machinery still monitoring the Hawk and a quick access to the emergency call button. At some point, however, exhaustion had gotten the best of the scientist and he'd slipped into a light slumber that appeared restless. The medical staff never had the heart to take the hospital bed away from Natasha because she'd refused to leave her friend's side even when she would've been in no need of medical attention. At some point she'd dragged it right next to Clint's. At the moment she was in a deep, calm slumber, her hand clutching to Clint's in what looked like an attempt to ground him to the real world. Tony had dragged a chair to the archer's other side and now slept on it, legs propped up on the bed and back leaning against the wall, snoring loudly with a smile on his fatigued face.

Clint himself was awake. Barely, since his eyes were only halfway open and bleary. When he noticed the nurse he gave her a small grin which was more than enough evidence to promise that he'd be alright. He then brought a finger to his lips, clearly very much aware of how desperately his friends needed the rest. After a couple of mouthed questions concerning his wellbeing, nods and headshakes his body seemed to have met his limit. His eyes slid closed and he fell asleep, a tiny smile still on his lips. Obviously feeling safe and sound. While one of his hands remained in Natasha's hold the other tightened around an item the nurse only just noticed. It was his much loved bow, whole, shiny and clean. A promise and a reassurance.

Yes, Clint would face a long, incredibly painful road to recovery. It'd take a very long time before he'd be anywhere near well enough to work alongside his friends. But they'd wait for him because he was their Hawkeye, their eyes from the sky. He wouldn't have to take even a single step towards getting better alone.

The nurse smiled as well when she left the room, mindful to not make a sound.

End of story.

A/N: D'awwwwwwww! So yeah, he's still far from okay. But he's getting there. The poor team, though! 'Must've been horrible, to imagine that they'd be taking home his corpse. (shudders)

SO…! The word's all yours, folks. Was that any good, at all? Back to workshop? To be hammered down by Thor? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from ya.

A QUICK QUESTION…! I MAY be able to pull off a double-update next week. (One chapter on Tuesday or Wednesday, another on Sunday.) Since one of the poll options practically tied with this I wouldn't want to make those who voted for it wait. How would you feel about that?

NEXT TO COME…!

A sparring session gone wrong leaves Clint fighting for his life.

And then, a horrific attack gets to the very core of Clint's being. The physical damage is appalling. The emotional scar tissue is even worse… (M RATING! I'm already sorry, guys, this'll be a tough read…)

THEN, in a three parter, Clint faces a surprising diagnosis that changes his life permanently. He's going to need all the help and support he can get. Will he pull through?

PLUS, a Farm accident puts Clint's life to risk – again…

Awkay, because a busy bee is busy… Until next time, guy! I REALLY hope that (as a dear reader put it in a review) I'll see you all on this same Hawk-channel. (smirks)

Take care!

Guest96: YAY! I'm super excited that you liked the story so much. I LOVE the 'M:I' movies, too, btw! Especially the latest couple of additions… (smirks and winks) 'Gotta love momma-Pepper, right? She's such a great team-mom! (smiles)

Colossal thank yous for the review! I really hope that you'll enjoy the tales to come as much.

Guest (1): I know, right! I'm soooooooo going to include a baby-Stark to one of these tales. The idea is just too addictive! (grins)

Thank you so much for the review!

Guest (2): Crazy it was! I'm really glad that you enjoyed the insanity. I REALLY hope that the tales to come please you as much!

Monumental thank yous for the review!

Guest (3): YOSH! I'm overjoyed that you had such a good time. (BEAMS) And I totally loved your prompts – the previous one and this new one! We'll see what's up for the poor Hawk next…

You have a great weekend, too! (hugs)

Massive thank yous for the review!

Guesty Guest: LOL! That sounds like absolutely awesome time. (grins) Awww, don't worry about the length! I'm ecstatic that you enjoyed the chapter.

LOL, and awwwwww! Poor Tony, though. He must've been TERRIFIED (although he'd rather chew off a finger than admit it, I guess…). Thank gosh the story had a happy ending!

Gigantic thank yous for the review! Until we type again.

Guest (4): I'm THRILLED that you like my writing style! Heh, although Clint is DEFINITELY, without a shadow of a doubt, my favorite Avenger I LOVE the rest of the gang as well. Typing about this team is a massive joy! (beams)

Both of those options will see daylight veeeeeeeeeeeery soon. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy them! LOL! I can absolutely see Tony messing with the Farm's machinery as well. And knowing Clint's luck it's bound to cause problems…

Guest (5): You won't have to wait long… (grins and winks) I really hope that it's worth the wait!

Thank you so much for the review!

(for chapter 23) Guest writer: I'm absolutely baffled and flattered by your review! Gosh, I'm SUPER happy that you've enjoyed the collection so much. This is how I see Clint Barton – it's good to hear that I'm not the only one who appreciates this vulnerable side of him. (smiles)

OH MY GOSH, Hawkeye having his own movie…! It'd absolutely be a dream come true for me. Especially when he has hands down the most amazing (albeit horribly sad) background tale!

HUGE thank yous for the review!