"BOOM!"
The missile detonated as it hit the Chitauri mothership, blasting it to bits. Clint fell back towards the earth and it was only when he was back through the wormhole, and gaining speed, did he realise. He was in the Iron man suit. The power seemed to be off and he was falling down into the centre of New York at a terrifying speed. Clint shut his eyes tight as he braced himself…Silence.
Clint opened his eyes a crack, instantly shutting them tight again as bright, white light pierced them. He tried again, opening his eyes slowly. He felt the mask on his face and raised an arm to pull it off. He gasped at the sharp pain in his chest, moved his arm more slowly and took off the mask. He then allowed his eyes to travel around the room. He was in one of the beds in the medical room of stark towers. As he turned his head to the right he saw Nat curled up in an armchair beside his bed; her knees to her stomach, her head rested on her hands. She was asleep. Clint had no idea what day it was but he could judge he time by looking outside the window. The bright light that had blinded him when he had woken came from the lamp above him. It was dark outside so Clint concluded it must be after 8:00pm.
He closed his eyes and thought about his dream. Was that what Tony had seen when he had destroyed the Chitauri ship? He wondered. Was I in his head? Clint immediately scattered the thought. Nat stirred beside him, making him lift his head a fraction. He shuffled, carefully, into a sitting position. As soon as he found a comfortable position, however, he felt a tingle in his throat and erupted into a hoarse coughing fit. Pain lanced through his chest, making him clutch his ribs with his hand. The loud noise woke Nat, who immediately sat bolt upright and leant over, putting her hands on the edge of Clint's bed.
"Clint? Clint, are you okay?"
Clint nodded slightly, still coughing. He closed his mouth, swallowing back his coughing.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." He assured her, leaning back on the wall.
Nat looked unconvinced. She got up from the chair and sat on the edge of Clint's bed. She tipped her head to one side and placed a hand on his forehead.
"You're a bit hot." She said, removing her hand from his head. Then she smiled. "Pietro's been in here a few times."
"Has he?" Clint asked, surprised.
Nat nodded and suddenly looked serious. "I think he feels responsible that you got hurt."
Clint frowned. "That's stupid. What could the kid do about me getting shot?"
Nat flinched visibly as she remembered the ambush, Clint immediately felt bad and muttered an apology. Nat looked up at him. "I'll let him know you're awake and that you don't blame him." She said, running a hand through Clint's hair. "You should get some more rest."
Clint smiled slightly before asking. "How long have I been out? What time is it?"
Nat stood up, smoothing out the place where she had been sitting. "Three days and 9:48."
Clint let out a small sigh, barely loud enough to hear and chuckled. "I think i've rested long enough then. I don't think i could sleep any longer."
Natasha looked at him; her gaze seemed to be assessing his health. "I'll go get some of the others to keep you company then." She headed for the door calling the last words over his shoulder. "I'll see who i run into. I think Pietro's up if you want me to get him." She opened the door, without waiting for a reply, and walked out.
He exhaled softly as she left the room. Why was Pietro feeling guilty? He asked himself. Three days! I wonder who Nat will tell and if they will come. Alone with his thoughts Clint felt himself becoming increasingly bored. He gently moved his head so he was looking to his right. Beside his bed was a grey monitor. It was whirring softly and by the numbers and motions Clint guessed it was his heart rate. 80bpm! That's almost double my usual resting heart rate, Clint realised with a jolt. He noticed the water gun injected into the back of his right hand for the first time since waking. It was uncomfortable feeling something under his skin. He jumped as the door banged open. Standing in the doorway were Tony, Bruce and Steve.
"I told you he'd jump out his skin" Tony said with a wide grin, directing the words to Steve at his right.
"I never said he wouldn't, i just said it might not be a good idea to try and make him jump." Steve retorted.
Bruce cast a sideways glance at them from Tony's left. "Honestly you two! Your friends been unconscious for three days and when he finally wakes up all you can do is argue with each other."
Tony and Steve exchanged guilty looks. Clint grunted in amusement as both their faces broke into smiles and both made an unnaturally high-pitched mocking noise.
"Oooooooh! Yes Mum."
They both jinxed each other and then fell silent, realising in despair that they couldn't talk unless someone said their name. Bruce grinned and they all pulled up chairs to gather round Clint bed.