Clint's POV

Two weeks. That was how it took for him to be cleared to fly back. His team including Echo threatened to tie him to the bed to keep him there if he didn't comply. Knowing them, they would most certainly follow through on the promise. So he stayed in bed except for physical therapy.

Even with the two weeks of healing he still walked with a heavy limp. His leg could support his weight but he could not fight. Charlie had promised to see him back to his apartment before heading off. The only reason he didn't have a full entrogue taking him home.

Charlie not wanting his neighbors to worry left him at the entrance. Per their custom they didn't say a word. All they gave for a goodbye was a simple wave. Saying goodbye was bad luck in this industry. So it was a simple nod or a wave. Sometimes it was nothing at all instead they would just be gone.

Having limped his way to his apartment on the fourth floor his attention was immediately drawn to the door being ajar. It had been shut and locked down when he left. There seemed to be someone who wanted to die today.

He pulled his side arm from its holster and stealthily pushed open the door. What he saw surprised him. Gordon, Alex, and Doctor Panov sitting on his shitty couch. Alex and the good doctor he could see coming. Avoiding them had become something of a game for Clint.

He wasn't quite sure why Gordon was there. His older brother was always busy with the army. It was rare that they even talked much less saw each other.

Holstering his weapon he alerted them to his presence, "You left my door ajar. Lucky I didn't shoot first ask questions later."

Gordon smiled with relief at the sight of him. It was obvious his brother had been alerted to his sudden unexplained disappearance. Clint found himself smiling at the affection that was in the other's piercing blue eyes.

Alex shook his head in exasperation but there was a fond smile at his lips. Then his blue eyes narrowed with worry as they noticed the limp.

Panov was the only one who didn't react with fond exasperation. Instead he stoically took in Clint's limping form. Noting the weapons and various other gear he wore. It seemed Clint was not giving a good first impression to the doctor.

Clint limped towards the doctor and greeted coldly, "You must be Doctor Panov. Alex speaks quite highly of you. I'm sorry for missing so many of our sessions. I actually intended to go to our last one. Unforeseen circumstances prevented me from doing so however."

Gordon inquired eyeing his wounds, "The same ones that left you so badly injured, David?"

Clint sighed, "There very same. There was an old friend in need. Her version of Alex contacted me as I was her if shit goes down call this number contact."

If it wasn't for Coulson, Clint wouldn't even be standing there. The man had saved his life when he could have left him to die. Not that the ex-Medusan would have blamed him. SHIELD and Medusa did not have a good relationship.

He nearly jumped when a hand touched his still painful back. Even with the cream he put on twice daily it still hurt like hellfire. According to their doctor it would for weeks to come.

A voice that was low and soothing said, "Its not just your leg. You have serious wounds to your back as well. Have they been treated?"

Clint replied his temper flaring turning to glare at the doctor who invaded his personal space, "Yes I have a serious wound to my back. Yes it had been treated. In fact it was the reason I was almost three weeks late getting back. Now remove your hand before I do it for you."

The hand quickly removed and Alex was quick to react, "Easy, David. Let's see the damage. Mo didn't mean anything by it. He just wants to help and understand."

Clint began unbuttoning his jacket as he growled, "I don't care. You know how I feel about head doctors."

Alex simply rubbed his temples in irritation. All three men knew of his dislike for head doctors or doctors in general. Getting him in for a physical each year meant having to be creative. Even occassionally coming down to sheer massive force.

Once his jacket was off his shirt soon followed. The three men winced at the sight of his back. It was still red and healing cuts from shrapnel could still be seen.

Alex grit out through clenched teeth, "You were too close to the explosion. Always have to be the hero."

Clint looked away unable to meet his friend's eyes. He wasn't a hero. Heroes didn't kill like he did. They didn't look to destroy if it meant to save a friend. That was exactly what he had done.

Alex ordered calmly, "Lay down on the couch. I'll put the ointment on your back," Clint tried to argue but was cut off, "I don't care if you don't trust Mo. You trust Gordon and I. Now lay down."

With another half a second of hesitation he obeyed. He lay face down on the couch. Gordon sat in front of him while Alex began to put more of the ointment on his back. The stress of the last few weeks took its toll. Soon his eyes slowly began to close and he knew no more.