Knives

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! Looks like whenever I say you can count on me, life decides to mess it up! Anyway, it's here now, hope you enjoy and love reviews!

Chapter 3 - Trouble

Tony did scoff at that. His smile faded when he noticed that his suit's fingers were coated in blood. He swerved off course to a nearby rooftop and dropped Clint there before circling round and landing. He took off the face part of his suit and looked sceptically at Clint's confused expression.

It was only then that he looked properly at Clint's condition. The archer was trembling slightly, legs shaking barely noticeably at holding his weight. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and was far too pale for Tony's liking.

"Sooooo… When were you planning on telling someone you were bleeding?"

"Oh, ummmm… So, you noticed then?"

Tony held up his hand for Clint to see. It was now covered in blood and dripping it onto the roof. He was shocked that there was so much from just their short flight here.

"I'm supposed to take that as a yes, aren't I?"

"Clint, were you shot?"

"Of course not, I would've told you!"

Tony just looked at him.

"Alright, fine. Maybe I wouldn't have told you if I was shot."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing! It's just a scratch anyway."

"Jarvis, check Barton for injuries."

"No, there's really no need for –"

"Clint Barton has a deep knife wound in his right side that could be fatal if left untreated for much longer."

"See, I'm fine." Clint shrugged.

"WHAT?! That is the definition of not fine! That's it, we're going back to the Quinjet right now!"

He picked Clint up and zoomed quickly to the Quinjet, talking as he flew.

"Hold on, knife wound. That wouldn't happen to be from that guy you were fighting who was going to cut your throat if I hadn't saved you?"

"Some job you did at that."

"Hey! I've saved you twice now."

"Seriously? Not realising that I was badly wounded counts as saving me now? I'll never hide an injury again, or you'd lord it over me forever."

"Although I would really appreciate you not hiding another injury, that's not what I meant. But if I did mean that and you kept hiding your injuries, then yes, I would forever lord over you how many times I'd have saved you."

Clint looked up and poked his tongue out at Tony, who snorted.

"And people say I'm childish!"

By then they had reached the Quinjet. He landed and took away the face part of his suit. As soon as Steve saw his face his brow creased with worry.

"What's wrong?!"

"Clint's hurt. He needs medical attention, now."

As if to prove his point Clint slumped against the wall of the Quinjet as soon as Tony released him. He made a move to support him but Steve was faster. He lay Clint gently on a bed.

"Where?"

It took Tony a little while to realise the question was directed at him.

"Right side." He recalled from Jarvis' briefing.

Steve nodded and quickly found the injury that Clint had done a good job of hiding. Tony blanched when the wound was uncovered. Jarvis had certainly been right when he reported it was deep. It was also covered in far too much red. Not for the first time he cursed Clint's choice of a black suit, which was far too handy for concealing blood.

Steve's voice snapped him back to the present.

"We need to get him to a hospital. Now. Tony, you fly."

Normally Clint would be their go to pilot, but, for obvious reasons, he was going to have to sit out for this one.

He brushed past Natasha and walked to the front of the Quinjet, notifying Bruce of the emergency on his way past, who was still suffering from post-Angry-Green-Monster-that-Destroys-Everything-in-It's-Path, otherwise known as post-Hulk.

Natasha watched her friend's far too pale face with tension in her body. She didn't relax when Bruce rushed over to do what he could for Clint, didn't relax when Thor came and put a hand on her shoulder, or when Steve reassured himself more than her by telling her that they would get to help before it was too late.

Before she realised what was happening she had grasped Clint's hand and was gripping it tightly, her supposedly non-existent heart skipping a beat out of worry for her friend. She kept her hold on him all through the flight that seemed to last forever and throughout their arrival at the hospital. Then the nurses rushed him away to surgery and she could hold on no longer.

Author's Note: Mean cliffie, I know. Wonder what's gonna happen, will Clint survive? Hope you enjoyed, and I'll certainly try to update this weekend!