No. 9. "Take Me Instead"/"Run!"/Ritual Sacrifice
For the Greater Good
"Take her," their captor said roughly, ordering his men to grab Natasha. "Since you refuse to give up the information, you will die," he informed Natasha, gripping her chin to force her swollen eyes to look at her. Natasha was delirious, and so weak from blood loss she could barely lift her head or stand on her own.
"No!" Clint cried, leaping to his feet, shoving aside the dizziness that threatened to overtake him. "Take me instead!"
"No...Clint...No," Natasha groaned out, trying to lift her head to look at him.
"The world still needs you, Nat. It's for the greater good," Clint pleaded. "Please, take me instead. Please."
"Ah, a noble gesture, my boy, but too late, I am afraid. I still have use of you. Your friend here, not so much. So she dies. Take her away!" the man barked. The two others drug Natasha out of the cell as Clint watched in horror. Chained to the wall, he could do nothing to save her. The sound of palm striking cheek sounded down the hall, and he knew his friend had been slapped. And there was nothing he could do.
The door of the cell was suddenly blown open, and his shackles unlocked by a man in a mask.
"Run!" he shouted. "Get out."
"But my friend-" Clint began to protest.
"Clint. I've got her," Coulson said, pulling down his mask so Clint knew who it was. Clint nodded upon understanding, and shot out the door, down the corridor to the door to the outside, leaping over dead or knocked out guards along the way.
"Here! This way!" someone shouted to his left, and he went veering in that direction, seeing Fury, standing on the ramp on a quinjet, beckoning him forward. Clint collapsed of the floor once aboard, every part of his body screaming in pain. He hadn't even known the full extent of his injuries until he had broken them all open again, laying in a pool of his own blood. An onboard medic began treating him right there, but he waved him off.
"Where's...Nat?" he gasped.
"Coming, Barton," Fury replied. "Look." Clint looked over, down the ramp, and there came Coulson and Natasha, running as the building behind them suddenly was demolished in a fiery explosion. Coulson half dragged Natasha up the ramp, and Fury dashed to the pilot's seat and took off, just as the residual flames licked at their landing gear. Clint drug himself over to Natasha, gripping her bloodied hand.
"Why'd you do that?" she whispered hoarsely. "Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?"
"Because I love you," Clint replied instantly, taking in a shaky breath. "And I don't want to ever have to lose you."
Natasha's eyes filled with tears as she drug herself closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, and they lay together on that quinjet floor, broken and bloodied, but still okay.