The elevator had been a bad idea, Clint could admit that.

He had reacted on instinct, pulling Bruce by the arm and hauling them both into the nearest place NOT directly within the charging path of the creature-of-the-week they had been sent to dispatch. (some nanobot lizard thing, Clint blamed Stark, really)

Unfortunately that had been the makeshift elevator on the unfinished floor of the skyrise they had scaled for the doc to send his electromagnetic pulse from. It was more of a window-washer platform than anything else.

Fortunately, the pulse had worked, dropping all but the head honcho of the bunch, unfortunately, said honcho was pissed and out for blood.

"Oof, wanna get off me doc?" Clint huffed out to Bruce who hadn't moved from where he'd landed on top of Clint.

Bruce pushed himself up, arms on either side of Clint's shoulders.

Green Veins stood out on Bruce's pale skin, the setting sun highlighting them as they bulged

"Shit!" Clint followed him up on his elbows, reaching out a tentative hand to Bruce's chest "Ok, no, hey- deep breaths doc. Not- not really a good place for the big guy to make an appearance."

Bruce kept his eyes closed, breaths coming out painfully slow as the veins settled back into his skin. He opened his eyes and Clint was grateful to see the brown instead of the vibrant green.

"Close one huh doc?"

And then there was a high pitched screech and the robo-lizard thing came barging into the elevator after them.

There was no time.

Clint shoved Bruce into the corner and reached for his bow barely getting it up in time to stop the razor sharp teeth from tearing into his chest, not that Clint didn't trust Tony's shiny new Kevlar but he wasn't about to go testing it out just for kicks.

There was the groaning of metal and suddenly the whole elevator was tilting sideways,

"Bruce?"

But Clint already knew the Doc was probably gone.

An enraged roar confirmed his suspicions and the gaping maw above him was tackled by a blur of green. It went right over the side, taking out the safety rails with it.

The hulk slid right after it and the platform jerked,one side breaking loose. Clint scrambled to get a hold of anything to stop himself from sliding but it was smooth as ice and he slipped down the the steel sheet.

He tried to hook his knees around what was left of the hand rail, managed to get one knee gripped tight, but the platform shook again and his other leg caught the jagged end of the broken metal.

"Fu-" he gasped in the rest of the word as his vision blurred at the edges

"Cupid!" he heard in the Hulk's angry growl.

Clint opened his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them, to see the big guy looking up at him from his hold on the bars below the platform, which was now, very much sideways.

Clint blinked, trying to clear his vision "hey big guy"

Hulk swung, Clint screamed, caught completely off guard by the movement as the metal tore further into his leg. He fought past the nausea, realized someone was yelling for him, had he- had he blacked out for a bit there?

He came back to Hulk roaring at him "Cupid! Cupid answer! What wrong?!"

Clint looked down at his friend trying to force his brain to make sense, or at least sounds

Why…? He looked back up and saw the building in front of them just shy of jumping distance. Oh. ok. Probably a good idea to swing closer to that.

"S' ok big guy" clint breathed out "you-" he stopped as a fresh wave of pain hit him, just breathe through it.

"can you" shit, was he going throw up? No- "can you swing us over there?" Clint finished

Hulk didn't look convinced and that's when Clint's bleeding finally made itself known to Hulk as the blood dripped down onto his friends hands,

It was almost funny how big Hulk's eyes got. Clint could have laughed. He might have, he was getting too dizzy to really make sense of much.

Clint flinched at Hulks roar and the tearing pain in his leg started up again, Oh yeah, definitely blacking out now.

Clint opened his eyes to a worried green gaze glaring at him.

"Stupid Cupid" Hulk growled

Clint felt vaguely offended "who-" But he had to stop as the nausea returned with a vengeance and he felt large gentle hands helping him to his side as he proceeded to vomit the entire contents of his stomach, admittedly, not much.

"Who died and made you a poet" he finished lamely.

He looked down to see a makeshift bandage applied to his leg and Hulks giant hand putting pressure on it.

In the distance Clint could see the red and gold glint of Tony zooming in closer

Hulk patted his back. "Hulk good at poetry".