I bet when I said that the update would come much sooner, you weren't expecting it to be within 24 hours. But, here it is anyway, with an incredibly short update time to make up for the long one I gave you between chapters 2 and 3. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and alerted this story.
And, finally we have some action this chapter. Pretty much the whole chapter really, and I'd really like it if you all tell me what you think.
Something I forgot to put in my AN last chapter:
I messed up I (repeatedly) called Rhodey a Corporal, when he is in fact a Colonel. Thank you to everyone that pointed that out to me, and sorry for my mistake.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
As always, I own nothing.
The next few days passed in the bliss that came with a complete lack of responsibility. At any given time, Tony and Bruce could be found in the lab working on a collection of projects that the others didn't want to get into a conversation about. It wasn't that they didn't care, it was that they were afraid of not being able to follow the conversation. Clint introduced Steve and Thor to Stark's vast collection of video games, Steve taking to them rather adeptly. Natasha would join them occasionally, watching Clint's animated explanations and game play with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression.
They also occasionally ventured into the city, Steve in fact accompanying Pepper to the art exhibit she'd seen on her date with Tony. It was Bruce, Clint and Steve that got the pleasure of showing Thor around Hollywood. It was quite the experience, and the demi-god had far more than his fair share of questions, but they were all having a good time, and everyone was aware of Steve's almost awestruck expression.
At the end of the Avengers' fifth day in Malibu, Clint had volunteered to make dinner, and was currently taking suggestions for what to make, the rest of the team and Pepper gathered around him, haphazardly seated at the table, or at the counter.
"Enchiladas." Bruce tossed out, giving a slightly affronted look to Tony when the billionaire scoffed.
"Spaghetti." he tossed out his own suggestion easily, making Clint, Bruce, Natasha and Pepper roll their eyes, while Thor spoke up, his voice pointed.
"Friend Stark, that is always your suggestion." the demi-god reminded, his eyes almost amused. "Surely there is more than that one dish that you find appetizing."
"Well sure, but that's my favorite." Tony protested defensively. "Do I tell you people what to like?"
"On occasion." Clint responded dryly, pausing as his cell phone rang from his pocket. He frowned when he recognized the number to Fury's secure line and held up a hand to quiet the others before he answered the call, holding the phone to his ear. "What can I do for you, Director?"
'Barton,' Fury started, but before he could get any further than that, Tony stepped forward and lightly snatched the phone from the archer's grip and instead held it to his own ear.
"Fury, what about the concept of 'vacation' do you not understand?" he asked lightly with an almost arrogant expression, ignoring the scowl Clint had directed at him.
None of them could hear the words behind the loud, clearly angry shouts that came through Clint's phone next, but the billionaire himself almost instantly lost his arrogance, eyes widening slightly. After only a few moments, he held the now silent phone out to the archer.
"It's for you." he said matter of factly, causing Natasha, Steve and Thor to cover up laughs.
"Sir?" Clint questioned, taking the phone when Tony handed it back to him with a blank expression.
'I've got a mission for you, Barton. An extraction. I sent Stark the file.' Fury said shortly, and Clint blinked in surprise.
"Why me, sir?" he asked. Fury had pulled him from working extractions years ago.
'Because I can't risk sending a team. This is very high risk, Barton. It's going to have to be dealt with using the very definition of stealth. A team of our agents were working on taking down a very powerful Italian arms ring. They were found out two days ago, and they're being held in the ring's base of operations; a warehouse in downtown L.A.' Fury said and Clint nodded to himself.
So it was also because he was local.
"Tony, print me that file that Fury just sent you." he said shortly, before speaking to the director again. "Anything else I need to know, sir, that's not in the file. Who is it?"
'The agents in question are Napier, Akers and Lewis.' Fury said matter of factly, and Clint felt himself stiffen at the names.
He was being sent in to save three agents that had taken pleasure in beating the crap out of him for weeks after the attack on the helicarrier that had killed the rest of their ten man unit.
'Barton. This had better not be a problem.' Fury said in warning, and Clint quickly shook his head.
"No, sir." he muttered. "I'll get suited up and let you know when a get a comm. channel set up."
'I don't need to tell you that speed is a factor here, Barton. Give the phone to Romanoff, I've got something for her too.' Fury said shortly, and Clint passed his phone to her before making for his room without another word to any of them.
Within minutes, he was suited up, quiver on his back, bow in its slot, knives in their sheathes and pistol on his hip. He stepped back into the kitchen just in time for Tony to do the same, carrying a thick sheaf of papers.
"Hawkeye, this doesn't look at all good." the billionaire said, his tone concerned as opposed to it's typical cockiness. "You shouldn't be going anywhere near this alone."
"Tony, I'm sure I've been fine through worse. These are SHIELD agents that need an extraction." Clint said coolly, his expression smooth and clear of any emotion as he took the file and began looking through it.
"Yeah, SHIELD agents that thought it was acceptable to use you as a punching bag a couple months ago." Tony pointed out with a frown and narrowed eyes. Clint just gave a slight sigh, even if his expression didn't change.
"It doesn't matter, Tony. They need my help, and Fury gave me a mission. I'm just going in to get them, and getting them out. It's not like I'm clearing the warehouse." he said shortly.
"Good thing too. There's a crap ton of them. A literal crap ton of arms dealers." Tony snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and sharing a glance with Steve.
"Are you sure one of us can't go with you?" the Captain asked carefully, but Clint just shook his head.
"Cap, guys, I'll be fine." Clint said reassuringly, still skimming over the file quickly, memorizing names, faces, and building layouts. "This is kinda my job. Well, in an slightly flipped way seeing as I'm doing the saving and not the killing."
"We just don't want you doing the 'being killed'." Tony grumbled, but finally Thor spoke up, his tone one of amusement.
"Friends, we have all seen the Hawk's abilities, in many different situations including some that no mere human should be able to overcome. Perhaps we should have faith in his judgment." the demi-god said wisely, causing everyone to look at him with varying degrees of surprise.
Clint was the first to respond, giving Thor a tight smirk and a nod.
"Thank you, Thor." he said pointedly, before he continued as his eyes returned to the file. "Of course that whole 'mere human' dig was almost an insult."
They all gave twitters of nervous laughter at that, just as Natasha slid back into the room, suited up as well.
She gave him a look that said she'd explain on the way, and Clint stepped up beside her without skipping a beat, catching the keys that Tony tossed at them.
"One of my more inconspicuous cars. Good luck." he called after them, and Natasha waved a hand to signify they'd heard before they slipped out of the mansion without even a sound.
"So I'm on extraction and you are…?" Clint asked as they climbed into a dark sedan that Stark had offered for them to use.
"I'm on their target. SHIELD wants the man alive." Natasha explained as she got into the driver's seat. "Though, I don't doubt that you pulled the raw end of this situation. You're going to have to be very careful, Clint, because you'll never actually follow protocol. You have no idea what kind of condition they're going to be in." she reminded lightly, and Clint gave a short nod of acceptance.
"I know, Tasha, and you know how I feel about that protocol." the archer said evenly, before sliding his comm. link into his ear and speaking into it. "SHIELD base, this is Hawkeye. Confirm secure communication link."
'Hawkeye, this is SHIELD base. Secure link confirmed and patching you over to Director Fury now.' an even voice responded, and Clint took the time to look over the building layout one more time, committing every inch to memory, so he would know every possible entrance and exit.
'Hawkeye, the nearest SHIELD safe house, and in this case your extraction point, is a bakery storefront called 'Sheila's Bakery' six blocks to the north-east of the warehouse. You let us know when you're ready. I'll be on the other end here the entire time.' Fury's voice came over next, and Clint nodded mostly to himself.
"Duly noted sir. I'll give you a heads up when I have eyes on Napier, Akers and Lewis." he told the older man, who gave a wordless grunt of agreement as response.
Thirty minutes later, the archer had made his way inside the warehouse's ventilation system without a ripple and was currently picking his way through the ducts in an attempt to find the three SHIELD agents. It was much, much less time than he would have preferred to do a sweep of the outside of the building, and try to figure out any patterns not in his file. He had a feeling that before this was over it was going to get a little sloppy, if for no other reason than because he was operating so quickly on so little intel. That wasn't to say he wouldn't get it done, however. As far as he was concerned, that wasn't an option. He frowned when he heard an odd combination of low, growled words and a choking, splashing sound.
Carefully, testing every inch of the duct before he moved to make sure it wouldn't creak with his weight, he inched forward to the next vent, listening carefully. He couldn't see anything beneath him, but the sounds were clearly coming from that vent, and they weren't at all promising. Unholstering his pistol slowly, seeing as his extended bow wouldn't fit through the vent.
Within moments, he'd dropped down, landing in a graceful crouch on the balls of his feet to maintain his silence. He looked around quickly, weapon ready in his hand, only to slowly relax when he realized he was on a sort of loft above a small room of the warehouse that had probably been originally a storage room of some sort. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few bare bulbs on the main level below him. He inched slowly forward to the edge of the loft so he could see down, feeling himself stiffen in anger when he saw what was going on below him.
Both Akers and Lewis were bound directly below him, their arms pulled behind them and secured to the wall. Clint couldn't tell anything else from his position, but his eyes were immediately drawn to nearer to the center of the room where four guards were standing over where Napier was bound to a chair by his arms and ankles. The entire top half of his body was soaked, and he was currently coughing and choking as if trying to get air into his lungs.
Clint felt ice in his veins, slowly putting his pistol away before reaching instead for his bow. He recognized a water boarding when he saw one, and if the sound of Napier's labored almost wet-sounding breaths were any indication, they'd been at this a while.
"Tell us who you are, and who you are working for." one of the men said in strongly Italian accented English, and Napier took a few long moments to try to regain his breath before he responded.
"Screw you." he gasped out eventually, and the guard scowled before pulling a damp cloth over the agent's face and forcing his head back while the agent was in the middle of a deep, choking cough which prevented him from sucking in any substantial air.
Clint watched the other man writhe and convulse against his bonds as a thick stream of water poured over his face for about thirty seconds with cold, detached eyes before he jerked his bow open and grabbed and notched an arrow in one smooth motion. He fired it in the next, not waiting to see it sprout of the eye socket of the man pouring the water before he continued with the next, and then again until all four guards were down on the ground and dead.
Despite the fact that his head was now free, and he was trying vainly to shake it off, the soaked cloth across Napier's face wasn't moving and he was still unable to breathe. In seconds, Clint had jumped down and was at his side, both completely ignoring Akers and Lewis for the moment and ripping the cloth off of Napier's face while crouching beside him.
"Hey, Napier, just keep coughing, alright? Clear out your lungs." Clint ordered sharply, quickly producing a knife and cutting through the ropes around his upper arms, chest and ankles with ease. His wrists were bound with handcuffs instead, but Clint would work on that when he was sure that Napier could breathe properly.
Instead, he forced the man to lean forward as much as he could, watching coolly as he expelled way too much water for comfort from his coughing and choking, barely managing a few gasping breaths between each bout.
Unbidden, Clint was reminded of a somewhat similar incident under much different circumstances years ago, when he and Napier were both recruits. Napier had originally been training to be a covert assassin as well, but his handler had gone a bit too far in anti-interrogation training, and the result had been somewhat like this. Not long after, Napier had decided he wasn't quite cut out for the job and had changed divisions.
"Barton?" he demanded as a wheeze once he'd gotten air into his lungs a few long minutes later, turning his head to the best of his ability to look at the archer, who had now turned his attention to the tight handcuffs on the other agent's wrists.
"Good to see you too, Napier." he said coolly, pulling a small lock pick from a pocket of his suit. "We really have to stop meeting like this."
"What the hell are you doing here?" the older agent continued, not at all amused, though there was a clear shake running continuously through his body. "Fury doesn't use you for extraction. Ever."
"Tell you what, you keep coughing up that water, and I'll worry about the semantics, alright?" Clint prompted, pulling the now open cuffs away from the other man's wrists and standing quickly to go to the remaining two agents, who Clint could now see were both blindfolded and gagged, which explained their silence.
"So what, you're here to kill us?" Napier prompted hoarsely, eyes narrowed into suspicion as he brought his arms forward slowly.
Clint paused, running a hand down his face before he responded.
"Yes, Napier." he said dryly. "I just put arrows through the eye sockets of the four guys water boarding you, kept you from drowning and cut you loose because I'm going to kill you. Your logic is just beautiful."
He ignored the his still suspicious expression and moved to Lewis first removing both blindfold and gag before moving to cut through the thick ropes binding him to the wall. Thankfully, he didn't look injured, though his gaze was suspicious too.
Sighing, Clint moved on to Akers, frowning when he saw the pool of blood that had formed beneath the third agent, who was limp and pale against the wall.
"Akers, you with me?" he prompted as he cut the man loose quickly, turning his chin so their gazes met. "How much blood have you lost?"
He shrugged slightly before sucking in a breath and responding.
"Infection. Through and through to my left thigh." he slurred and Clint gave a short nod, turning to look to Lewis who had approached quickly.
"Lewis, get me that cloth they were using for your blindfold." he ordered quickly, snatching up the one that had been used on Akers as well, tying the two together to make one long strip that he then used to make a sort of tourniquet above the bloody hole in the agent's leg.
He worked quickly, not knowing how much time he had before they were discovered.
"Why did Fury send you, Barton?" Napier asked after a few moments, his worried gaze on Akers as Clint slowly helped him to his feet, Lewis taking his spot quickly.
"Because it was too risky to send a team in considering the situation." Clint said shortly, turning his defiant gaze to Napier, who blinked. "There's too many hostiles, too many unknown guns for an all-out assault. Like it or not, Napier, right now, I'm the only way you're getting out of here."
"Barton, we all know the protocol for a high-risk extraction." the soaked, dark-haired man said in a low voice, Akers and Lewis freezing at his words while Clint just snorted.
The man was right, he knew the protocol. If the agents held captive couldn't be safely freed without endangering the life of the agent doing the extraction, that agent was to consider his orders changed to elimination instead. Meaning, technically, if Clint was ever worried for his own safety at any point, it was his job to kill Napier, Akers and Lewis and get his own ass the hell out of Dodge.
He hated that protocol. It was stupid, even Phil had thought so, and had directly disobeyed it for him a few times over the years.
"Napier, did you ever wonder why Fury stopped sending me on extractions?" Clint asked matter of factly, watching as confusion lit in the man's eyes and he slowly shook his head. "It's because I make it my own sole mission to completely ignore every letter of that protocol. Mostly because I'm too in control of the situation for my life to be in danger. Of course, SHIELD has come to take that to mean I'm too stubborn to know when the correct decision needs to be made and as such, they don't typically send me on extractions anymore. Luckily enough for you, I was local."
All three agents were staring at him with wide eyes, which just made Clint smirk, before he touched the comm. in his ear.
"Fury, you copy?" he asked, hearing a quick grunt of affirmative quickly after. "What's the status on Widow's mission?"
'She's in the process of leaving the area with her target now. Be advised that they know something is up now, so be prepared to have to act.' Fury warned him and Clint scowled but gave a slight nod to himself.
"Noted." he said easily, making Fury growl quietly.
'Barton, you know I have to at least tell you to follow protocol.' he said shortly, but Clint just snorted.
"Please, sir, can we just admit between me and you here that you only sent me because you didn't actually want protocol followed?" he asked dryly, giving a slight roll of his eyes a Fury's sound of disagreement. "I mean I know you can't just go out and say that to the Council, but seriously. You know, luckily enough I'm fine with being your fall guy for this, so long as I don't get fired or anything. But uh," he cast a quick glance to the other three agent's slack jawed expressions and gave a smirk before he continued. "I'll let you know when we get to the extraction point. Be advised, my current most complete plan of action involves blowing this pop stand. Literally."
'You're a God-damn pain in my ass, Barton.' Fury growled, aggravated but not angry.
"I'm taking that as acceptance." the archer said lightly, before he looked over to Napier, Akers and Lewis and sliding back into focus. "So I know he's been shot; what other injures do we have?"
"Ribs." Napier grunted with a grimace, and Clint nodded, looking to Lewis who shook his head.
"I've got a few bumps and scratches, nothing major." he said and Clint nodded again, before slipping his pistol out of its holster and holding it out to Napier.
"Lewis, I want you to help Akers. He's not going to be walking on his own, and we're going to have to move quick." the archer said quickly, and Lewis nodded a determined acceptance. "All of you stay with me. From where we are in the building, the hallway just outside this door will lead to a stairwell with roof access. That's our ticket out of here and to the extraction point."
"What'd you do, scope out the place?" Napier asked, sounding grudgingly impressed, but Clint just shook his head.
"No, I memorized the layout on the way here. And seriously, whatever issues you have with me, bench them now because you have all got to trust me for at least the next hour or so." he said firmly, waiting until he got three nods of hesitant acceptance before he took his bow off his back and held it ready in his hand before going to the door of the room.
He opened it slowly, acting as soon as he saw there was a guard flanking the left side of the door way. Before he could make a sound or react other than widening his eyes, his neck was snapped and he was crumpling to the ground. Of course, it was then that Clint became aware of the second man that had been standing on the other hallway, that was now staring wide-eyed in shock.
Apparently, he wasn't armed because he wasn't firing on them in any fashion, instead turning and starting down the hall, shouting at the top of his lungs in what sounded like Italian. Just as the man turned a corner in the hallway, Clint loosed the arrow he'd drawn, watching as it deflected off the far wall and was quickly followed by the sound of impact, and the man's shouts gurgling into silence.
Other voices quickly took over, however, consisting of a much larger group of men. And in an arms dealer's warehouse, it was far too much to hope that they wouldn't be carrying as well.
"At this point I would ask that you please proceed into getting a valid head start towards our target staircase; end of the hall on the left." Clint said lightly, pressing a few buttons on his bow before drawing an explosive arrow and firing it almost lazily into the far wall as the voices grew louder, especially when they apparently caught sight of his arrow.
Clint pressed the button to detonate just as he saw the first men turn the corner, carrying a range of weapons that he really wasn't in the mood to be on the wrong end of. Napier, Akers and Lewis had all started down the hall like he'd said, but Clint held his ground stubbornly, loading another explosive arrow as he ducked out of the way of flying bits of debris from the first explosion.
He scowled as it became clear that a few of the men had gotten through that explosion and were now pointing the earlier mentioned weapons at him. The archer aimed his arrow at the ceiling just before the wave of men that had now started firing at him, letting it go in one quick motion before he turned and sprinted after the other agents.
This arrow exploded on impact, dropping what basically amounted to the ceiling onto the men that had been pursuing him. Clint stumbled slightly with a curse when he felt a piece of debris from the explosion slam into the back of his head, but he quickly righted himself and kept running despite the stars that flashed in his vision.
His head jerked up at the sound of gunshots ahead of him, and he scowled when he saw that a quartet of armed men had appeared from another room down the hall. Napier had dropped two with the pistol he'd been given before he'd ducked behind the open door that Lewis had pulled Akers behind.
Before Napier had to stick himself out to fire again, Clint drew two arrows in rapid succession as he ran, each burying deep into the chests of one of the two remaining men.
He slowed to a stop beside where the group of three agents was still situated, taking turns staring at him, and the burning piles of destruction behind him.
"Are we good?" Clint asked sharply, knowing that they didn't have much time to waste if they wanted to get out of the building without being reduced to swiss cheese.
"Yeah." Napier gave a quick nod, glancing to his other two men before back to Clint.
"Fantastic, let's go." Clint said dryly, glancing up and down the hallway one more time before he led the group to the stairs that would take them to the roof.
He let Napier start up first, followed by Lewis and Akers while Clint took up the back. After only a few steps, however, it became apparent that Akers wasn't going to be walking up the stairs with his leg the way it was. Carefully in the narrow stairwell, Clint edged up to the man's other side and together he and Lewis were able to mostly carry him up.
Of course, they weren't expecting to have a group of six men waiting for them on the roof either. Before Napier had even taken two steps out onto the roof, two men had grabbed his arms and pulled his gun away, while the other four had turned to the grouping of Clint, Akers and Lewis.
"Get down on the ground." Clint muttered to Akers and Lewis, fixing his grip on his bow, before swiftly lashing out with it and leaping forward, striking the four hostiles across the arms and for the most part knocking their guns to the side.
One managed to get a shot off, shouting at him in Italian, but Clint didn't particularly care to try to figure out what he was saying, quickly ducking and rolling to the side. He came up into a crouch with an arrow notched into his bow, firing it into the heart of the man who had tried to shoot him. In the next moment, he jumped up to flip over the heads of the men that had run at him, twisting around once he landed to reach around and snap his bow back into the throat of one of the men, instantly crushing his windpipe. The other spun to face him with wide, fearful eyes.
Clint aimed a quick, easy, spinning kick to his temple that made the man drop like a sack of rocks, before doing half a back flip onto his hands and reaching up to wrap his legs around the neck of the huge man that had been coming up behind him. He then fell into a roll that had the man flipping over him and landing hard on his back, neck already snapped.
Clint hissed slightly at the way his quiver was digging into his back, and didn't quite have time to flip to his feet before there was a foot flying at his head. He rolled and caught the offending limb, giving it a harsh twist to dislocate the hip of the unfortunate man it was attached to, causing a scream of agony that was abruptly cut off when Clint used the knife that was now in his hand to slice his throat.
By Clint's count, that was five, and he turned to see if the sixth was still on Napier when he heard an arrow being jerked from his quiver, as well as a shout of warning from one of the other agents.
In the next moment, he felt something stab its way through his suit and into his right shoulder blade, the tip of the weapon scratching against the bone and causing a flare of fiery pain to travel through his back and arm.
He knew without looking that there was now an arrow sticking out of his back and he spun to face the man responsible barely in time to duck around the fist being swung at his head. His right arm was completely useless at the moment and Clint quickly transferred his knife to his left hand and threw it with unerring accuracy into the throat of the man that had stabbed him.
All of the men dealt with, Clint let out a quick, shuddering puff of breath and closed his eyes as he tried to internally figure out how bad the injury was and subsequently deal with the pain. He could still feel where the tip of the arrow had struck the bone of his shoulder blade, which hurt like a bitch. He was lucky, however, that it hadn't gone into the joint itself, which could have proven disastrous for his chances of ever shooting a bow again.
"Barton?" Napier's raspy voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked around sharply to see that all three agents were staring at him with a mix of awe and concern in their eyes.
He simply grunted before reaching around and wrapping his hand around the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his back. Clenching his jaw to brace for the pain he knew this would cause, Clint gave the arrow one quick jerk to pull it out, managing to not make a sound.
"You know, all the years I've been doing this, and this is the first time that has happened." he said tonelessly, dropping the arrow to the ground and looking back up to the other agents.
He saved them from responding by moving over to the north-east side of the roof and looking over their options. He knew the quicker they got off this roof the better. He didn't know how many people his explosions had taken out, or how long it would take whoever was remaining to get past the debris. The easiest way would be to grapple across to one of the other rooftops of a shorter building and go from there, but that would require him to fire his bow, which could be a problem at this point.
Deciding it was their only option, Clint quickly pulled out the thick cord he kept in the bottom of his quiver for rappelling purposes, and quickly cut off three pieces, handing one to each of the agents who had approached him silently. Wordlessly, Clint then took his bow off of his back and loaded a grappling arrow, drawing it in the next moment.
"Barton, you can't shoot that thing with your shoulder…" Napier's protest trailed off as Clint ignored him, gritting his teeth before pulling the arrow back, letting out a shaky breath and firing.
Only a few moments later, they heard the sound of impact as the arrow secured itself into an air conditioning unit on the next roof top, and Clint then moved to secure the line to the edge of the roof they were standing on. The height difference between the buildings created enough of an incline that they would be able to slide down to the other building without a problem.
Trying to ignore the fact that the muscles in the back of his shoulder were now screaming at him, Clint motioned for Lewis to go first, watching as the agent gripped his rope tightly before dropping lightly off the roof. The archer couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief when the man landed safely on the other side, waving for the others to follow. Napier went next, and Clint looked to Akers who was even paler than before, and sweating profusely, his eyes dull.
"Akers, can you manage this?" Clint asked gruffly, not wanting the man's hands to slip and cause him to fall. That would most likely kill him.
"Yeah. Yeah, I've got this." the man said shortly and Clint didn't have time to continue to question, helping him off the roof and watching him intently until both Napier and Lewis caught him on the other side.
Clint let out a short breath, wincing slightly as he too dropped off the roof, using his bow to carry him across. His shoulder didn't like that development either and he barely managed to keep his grip long enough to get to the other building. Keeping his face as blank as he could, Clint cut the grappling line that led to the warehouse before continuing to the other side of the roof. Thankfully, this building had a fire escape.
They were completely silent as they walked the six blocks to the extraction point as quickly as they could, Clint able to feel the blood that was seeping out of his injury. He couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief when he reached the store front reading 'Sheila's Bakery', and found the palm scanner to open the door beneath the windowsill to the right of the door.
"Find the first aid kit." Clint instructed Lewis, as soon as he'd lowered Akers to the floor in the back bay area behind the fake store front.
As the agent quickly did so, the archer himself reached for his comm. speaking into it quickly.
"Fury, we've reached the extraction point, requesting extraction. Akers needs immediate medical attention." he reported, listening as Fury's grudgingly impressed voice came back.
'Copy, Agent Barton, we'll have a team at your location in twenty minutes.' the director told him and Clint snorted.
"And someone to drop me back off at Stark's." he stated more than asked, which just made Fury give an unhappy growl.
'Someone will be there.' he confirmed and Clint gave a nod to himself, turning as he saw Napier coming up to him out of the corner of his eye.
"You should get that shoulder looked at." the still damp, dark haired agent told him matter of factly, but Clint just snorted.
"As far as you three are concerned, I'm not hurt." he told them pointedly, which just made all of them look at him like he was insane. "If SHIELD doesn't know I was hurt, they can't prove I broke protocol. In my report, the explosions did them all in, and we got up to the roof and off of it without problems."
Unhappy realization sparked in Napier's eyes, which just made Clint snort again, rubbing the back of his head to make sure it wasn't bleeding as well, seeing as the throbbing of his head from where the debris from the explosion had hit it had returned full force. Thankfully, his hand came back clean, just as Napier spoke again.
"You can't let a wound like that go untreated."
"Napier, I live with a doctor, alright? I'll get it checked out. Now stop caring, because it's really starting to creep me out."
And there we have it. Please feel free to tell me what you think; love it, hate it, ect. The next update won't be quite as short as this one, but it shouldn't be long.
~Dogstar