Bloody Hands

It's all my fault. Of course it is. I'm just a useless freak who does no good in the world. I can't even keep my best friend protected.

Clint is now waiting in the emergency room, sitting on a hard plastic chair with his face buried in his hands. He's pressing his palms into his eyes, making lights flash across his black vision.

The visions repeat themselves. Nat's grunt of pain and him turning around only to see her body fall to the ground in a puddle of blood. Her glazed over eyes, blood stained lips, pale face. All showing how she wasn't going to make it out of this mission. He kept thinking back to what the doctors said. "It's not looking good." "We're losing her." "We need a pulse, CLEAR!"

Clnit was so lost in thought he didn't hear Coulson approach. "Clint? Shit, Hey hey Clint it's okay. C'mon look at me." Coulson has seen Clint during a panic attack before, and has learned the hard way that he should never touch him.

Clint's eyes, brimmed with tears and red from the effort of holding them back, look up to Phil. "She's dead sir…" He trails off and his voice cracks. Clint looks down, looking so utterly defeated that Phil's heart aches. "It's all my fault. If I had just been they soo–"

"No she's not agent. I just received word from her doctors. Romanoff is expected to make a full recovery. The only setback was that the bullet landed in her lung. Natasha's okay Clint. You can see her now." Clint says standing up and offering Clint his hand.

She's okay. Those words echo in Clint's mind.

"She's not dead?" He chokes out. Phil responds with a nod, knowing how much Clint hates himself after every battle for every death. He only chose this job so no one else had too.

"You want to see her?" Phil asks cautiously. Clint stands up without another word and follows Phil to the room. Staying behind him and keeping his eyes on the floor.

Phil stops in front and opens a door labeled 207. Clint walks in and rushes to Nat's side. She's on a ventilator helping her breathe until her lung heals enough. She's almost the same color as the sheets, she has a loosely fitted hospital gown on her that makes her look small and defenseless, Clint hates it. He seats himself on a chair and takes her hand in his. Resting his forehead on it. "I'm so sorry." He manages to get out.

…

Clint falls asleep but is jerked back awake when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It's Phil.

"Yeah?" Clint says groggily.

Phil smiles and moves out of Clint's eyesight. Behind him is an awake and very much alive Black Widow. Smiling back at him. At some point during his nap, they must've removed the tube. Which Clint is thankful for.

"Nat?" He says. Standing up and taking a couple of steps towards her. "I'm sorry. I-I-I didn't mean for it to happ–"

Nat cuts him off. "Clint! Stop. It's not your fault. It's mine. But I'm okay now, so that means you are too."

Clint nods. Coulson sees Clint furiously wipe his red eyes, and he knows that it's not much longer until Clint can't hold them back any more. Phil walks out the door and shuts it behind them.

Nat opens her arms, knowing Clint's vulnerability is high after he panics.

Chapter two done, hope you liked it and hope you stick around until the ending Thanks for reading!

Shoutouts to Katie MacAlpine for commenting on my last chapter. You're the best!