Groaning softly, Thor was suddenly overcome with a fit of coughs, his throat burning as he sat upright. Eyes flashing open, he immediately was unsure whether he opened his eyes at all. As the coughing subsided, Thor shut his eyes tightly and opened them once more. He held his eyes open wide as he turned his body to look around, as turning his neck hurt too much, still unable to make out anything in the darkness. A small sniffle to his left nearly made him jump out of his skin and he swore loudly, backing away from the noise until very quickly his back was pressed against a cool, solid surface. At the sudden use of his voice, he began to cough again for what seemed like hours before he was able to get it under control again. His throat felt as though it were on fire. There was small moment of silence before a woman's voice spoke to him.
"…Thor?" It whispered. Blinking pointlessly, his eyebrows furrowed together. Was that…?
"Natasha?" He gaped quietly, his voice hoarse and still seeming too loud in his ears in comparison to the darkness around them.
"Shit," he heard her whisper. "It got you, too?" Thor found himself about to nod, forgetting for a moment that there would be no way for her to see.
"I thought with it in the tower you would've been dead," he whispered back, relief clear in his voice. After a moment, there was a flood of light and Thor winced, motioning to back up again away from it and only succeeding in hitting his head on the wall behind him. Squinting in the light, he realized it was Natasha's phone. As she set the phone on the floor between them, he grinned slightly. Her hair was down her back in a curled mess, and she was still in her night clothes (an old t-shirt and shorts) but she looked unharmed. Natasha didn't reciprocate the smile, however, and instead looked alarmed, her eyes focused on his throat.
"Did it do that to you?" She whispered, gesturing slightly in the dark. Thor nodded and bit the inside of his cheek as a fresh stab of pain surged through his neck. "God. What was that thing? I've never seen anything like it." There was a pause as Thor wet his lips, looking away into the darkness as he tried to decide how to proceed. He could feel Natasha's eyes on him, still. "Thor?"
"It…" Thor began cautiously. He knew the rules. Mortals weren't supposed to know about them. They weren't supposed to know their names, what their presence meant. There was another moment of silence.
"Do you know what that thing was?" She pressed, eyes never leaving his face for a second, studying him.
Thor felt an almost immediate sense of relief wash over him as a sound came from somewhere behind Natasha before it was replaced just as quickly with extreme dread. He hadn't realized that there was a door behind her until Natasha backed quickly away from it to sit next to him, grabbing her phone and putting out the light. After a few seconds, Thor could make out the faintest light from underneath the door. Coming from the other side was a heavy, wet dragging noise… and it was coming closer. Stopping as it reached the other side of the door, there was a scraping sound, as though the someone were dragging their nails up the door towards the doorknob.
The door swung open and in the doorway stood the creature, having to bend its back to see into the small closet that Thor and Natasha sat in. In the dim red light of the hallway behind it, they could smell the metallic blood before they saw it. Blood had been dripping all down the front of the creature, and it looked as though it were still fresh, the light still reflecting off of the dark liquid. Thor felt Natasha stiffen beside him, a small gasp passing between her lips. It wasn't until the creature brought its long arm forwards that he saw what had been making the dragging noise. Holding up the limp body of Clint an inch above the floor, Thor found that he could only stare, his mouth hanging open slightly as it dropped Clint into the closet with them. Neither daring to move or now take their eyes off of the creature, the two sat helplessly as the creature let a dark, rumbling laugh echo through the hall around it. It seemed to swell with what could only be described as a sick pleasure at the sight of their horror. The door swung shut again and they could hear it slowly walking back down the hallway.
After a few moments, the two sprang into action, Natasha once more lighting her phone, shoving it into Thor's hands as she examined her husband. Thor found it hard to say anything at all, knowing that he was probably dead. Still, he held the phone up for her to see. There was a large gash on Clint's forehead, the pale skin already deeply bruised around it. His nose had been bloodied, yet had had time to dry… How long had he been like this? One of his arms was also darkly bruised, going up under the short sleeve of his shirt towards his shoulder, which appeared as though it had been roughly dislocated from its socket. The worst injury - as far as Thor could tell and in terms of looks - was his leg. It looked as though someone had taken massive chunks from his calf, ripping the skin down towards his ankle. Large portions of skin were missing from the leg, revealing instead the muscle, and in some more unlucky portions, the bone within.
The closet now reeked of blood, and Thor occasionally found himself holding his breath, so as not to breathe it in anymore. Watching Natasha was easier than looking at the leg, which Thor was having trouble not staring at. Natasha held her ear to Clint's lower face, unmoving and not breathing as she listened for signs of life. One of her shaking hands was held to the side of his neck, two fingers pressed against the artery, feeling desperately for a pulse. After a few moments, she seemed to relax slightly, breathing a long sigh of relief.
"He's alive," she whispered, immediately setting to work. Thor watched as Natasha tore a long piece off of Clint's shirt, wrapping it very tightly around his leg, above where the deep tears started. "It probably thought that he was dead, or else I doubt it would've looked so pleased."
"I agree," Thor whispered back, glancing back at the closed door. "We should probably keep it that way. If it thinks he's alive…" his voice trailed off and Natasha finished for him, taking the phone again.
"It'll probably come back to finish him off." Natasha put her hand on Clint's face and held open one of his eyes with her thumb, shining the light into his eye. Repeating the process to the other eye, she paused. Gently and repeatedly, she tapped one of his cheeks and whispered in his ear. "Clint! Clint, wake up!"