Okay, so there is mild language in this. Just to be warned.

"Sir, I think he's waking up." The muffled voice hits Clint as soon as his brain starts working.

He groans, letting his head roll around his neck stiffly. Stretching the sore muscles. That's when he realizes that he's hanging by his wrists. His shoulders are pulled taut and he could feel the tension between the tendons. The bones were popped out at an odd angle, probably dislocated. He groans again, this time in frustration.

"Crap. Give him another injection." A tough sounding man ordered. Clint opens his eyes and realizes belatedly that he can't see anything. That's when he feels the rough fabric on his face. A blindfold. Shit. At least they didn't find his hearing aids.

The meek man from before responds. "B-but we can't sir. We've already g-given him too much." The boss man from before growls. But before he can say anything, Clint chooses to interrupt.

"Jus' so ya know...I gotta high…tol'r'nce tah…tah dr'gs." Clints lips weren't working correctly and he couldn't form words. His tongue slurred together the syllables.

The men continue bickering after hearing him speak. "Who is this man? I thought no one could compete against my drug? It's meant to subdue everyone, no matter how high their drug resistance is."

Clint feels woozy and his head is pounding at the loud voice. But he won't show defeat.

"Sir, th-this man is...umm...he's a shield agent." The man from before is back. Saying this quietly. "He was wearing a shield uniform, sir, And with his bow and arrows, we believed him to be Hawkeye. The avenger."

Clint can hear the bossy man gasp. "Shit. We gotta get out of here. Pack up our stuff. Leave him here and meet me by the truck." Clint hears him start to walk away. When he turns back and growls in a deadly voice, "You have five minutes or else I'm leaving without you." The menacing voice leaves Clint shook, who were these men?

There are many clattering and clinking noises before it's silent and Clint is left with his thoughts swimming around him. Nothing but his hearing left to keep him company. But now that it is dead silent, it's not doing him much help. Without much of a thought, he passes out.

Clint wakes up groggily and his shoulders hurt too much for him to focus on anything. There is loud buzzing in his ears and he can't hear past it. Normally he'd freak out without two of his main senses, but right now he couldn't find the entry to care. He wanted to go back to sleep but his mind wouldn't let him.

How long has it been? What day is it? What happened? Where's Natasha? The questions swirl around his brain and he feels his stomach grumble. His tongue is dry and his throat is like sandpaper. Every time he swallows his saliva, he winces as it burns his throat.

Clint's eyes close and he doesn't wake back up.

"-lint… Cli-… -n you h-….-e" The voice keeps cutting out just when Clint manages to focus on it. He groans, the only noise he can produce. He's not even sure if any noise actually came out, he thinks so because he feels the pain in his throat spike before going back down.

"-sha….?" He manages to ground out. His eyes open, revealing slits of hazy blue pupils.

"Clint? Oh thank god, I thought you were dead." Natasha sighs in relief. "Sorry it took so long to find you, your kidnappers just left the building and we thought you were taken with them, they probably left because they realized who they kidnapped." Natasha chuckles heartedly.

Clint only gets like half of those words. He yelps in pain when he is released without his advanced knowledge. His feet hit the ground hard and he collapses into Natasha's arms with another yelp.

"Shh shh it's okay. I know, just stay calm." She soothes his pain with her words before calling Bruce over from behind her. Steve had already come over to help her when he collapsed into her arms.

Together, they lowered him to the ground so he was sitting up on his butt with his legs sprawled in front of him. He was leaning against Natasha's chest with the back of his head resting in her shoulder.

"His shoulders are dislocated." She says softly. Pitying Clint for the pain that he's about to receive.

Bruce takes Clint's right shoulder in his hands apologizing for the pain when Clint's eyes squeeze shut and he winces. Clint's arms scramble for a grip on the bottom of Bruce's shirt. His fisted palm tangled into the fabric.

Bruce looks down at the hand with the white knuckle grip, surprised to see it gripping onto his shirt and not Natasha's.

"Okay, you know how this goes. The pain is quick but then it stops pretty quickly. Ready?" Bruce says.

Clint nods weakly. Somehow the man's fist gets tighter into the fabric.

"3…2…1-" Clint grunts as he bucks under Natasha's hold over him. But as Bruce said, the pain leaves quickly and Clint falls limp, breathing heavily.

"That…sucked." Clint manages to pant out.

Bruce winces for the man. "I know Clint. I have to do the next one now though."

Clint hums in agreement. "…kaay."

Bruce moves over to the left shoulder. "Ready?"

He counts down but this time he does it right on three. The only problem is that Clint doesn't feel his shoulder pop. Neither does Bruce.

"don' thin' it wen' in doc." Clint mumbles.

Bruce hums in agreement. Busying himself in pushing the shoulder in at a new angle.

Clint grunts again. Bruce keeps trying, it kills him to cause his teammate this pain. Clint pushes his head further into Natasha's collar bone. He growls lowly in pain.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry. The tendons are too swollen for the bones to click. Aha, here we go. One more time."

A pop resounds through the room and Clint jerks backwards before falling limp. His breathing is heavy, breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth.

Clint's eyes are closed and he's limp is Natasha's arms. Bruce glances at Clint's hand, which has fallen from Bruce's lavender shirt, leaving a wrinkled patch where it was clutching the shirt for comfort.

"Are you awake? Clint?" Bruce asks, concerned that he knocked out his friend from the pain.

Steve lays a hand on Clint's shoulder. "C'mon son, open your eyes." He says firmly.

Clint grumbles but obeys. His eyes open slightly and they blurrily focus on Bruce. "Dijah come tah take me home?" He slurs drunkenly. P overriding his senses.

Bruce smiles and stands up, Steve and Natasha follow, who lift up Clint with them.

"Yeah, we're taking you home." Bruce says quietly. Natasha let's Steve carry Clint, not wanting to put a strain on his shoulders, especially his left one.

Clint tucks his head under Steve's neck. "Than's Stevie." He mumbles.

Bruce starts rambling to Natasha about the medical issues that could be wrong with Clint. "It looks like he was left here a couple days ago. Maybe three or four days, he's severely dehydrated and slightly starved. I'm worried about his left shoulder and we should keep an eye on it, the tendons have to be really swollen for it to take seven tries to pop a shoulder back in. Especially for someone as experienced as me. We need to get fluids in him though."

Natasha places a hand on Bruce. "It's okay Bruce. You helped him and that's all he cares about. He trusts you, you know. It took a while for him to warm up to me, I wouldn't be surprised if he goes to you for help over me."

Bruce sighs. "Thanks Natasha."

Next chapter is coming soon, I would say hopefully tomorrow but I'm not sure. Next chapter prompt is Broken Ribs.

Thanks too PotatoCheeseCat and Katie MacAlpine for reviewing!

PotatoCheeseCat: I don't think I'm emotionally ready for any deaths in future movies. We've already lost everyone. 😭😭

Katie MacAlpine: Oh my gosh I can't physically wait any longer until November 24th. 20 more days!