A/N: *peeks out from cave* hai... I've been going through really tough times, and I just stayed up all night reading other amazing fanfics, finding BlackHawk comic clippings (ost of them fan-made), and writing this. The quote she says was from a small strip I found at about 4 AM. I really hope you all like this...

There was one time, when everything went in slow motion, that he thought he was losing her. They had been way outnumbered, and real fights weren't easy like in the movies. The people outnumbering you didn't come one at a time. They also didn't go out quickly, especially if they were trained in martial arts. On top of that, they all had knives. Lucky for him, he had one of the best knife-fighters in the world on his side. However, when there's several attackers, all weilding knives, it gets ugly. A knife entered the right side of her abdomen during a fight. It went almost all the way to the hilt, and was about to be pulled out again when the attacker had gotten an arrow in-between the eyes from a foot away. This sight had made the other men of the gang run away, but Clint hadn't had time to smirk or send arrows after them.

She was looking down at the knife still inside her, trying to move her hands so she could stop what bleeding she could. She had looked up at Clint, and her face would be the center of his nightmares for the rest of his life. Dark blood came up from her mouth, and some came out of her mouth, starting a line down her chin. She had started to fall, and he caught her head as she hit the ground.

Examining the knife, he made the decision to pull it out on his own. The feeling made him sick, sicker than the first time he killed. Blood had spouted out, leaving drops on both of their faces. He quickly covered the would with his hand. Pops of gunfire sounded from down the block, but they were distant echoes to him. His whole face was twitching, trying to hold back tears. He felt something warm on his hand, and he looked down to see her blood-soaked one on top of his. A tear fell onto it as he looked back at her. He could barely hear her next words:

"Не будь такой старухе, Hawkeye."

A man's voice came through the molasses of the echo, and everything snapped back into normal pacing. He was barking orders to the new agent who'd been assigned as their backup (All of the S.H.I.E.L.D. missions had back-up agents to help if needed, and the agency had decided to start putting inexperienced ones on their missions because Hawkeye and Black Widow never needed help). She had dark hair and blue eyes, and was the most cool and collected newbie he had ever seen.

On the helicopter, Natasha was put on the mobile life support system. He still had his hands pressing down on her wound, but a small shatter of glass and a sudden drop of the chopper notified the passengers that the pilot had been shot. The newbie sat on top of the dead pilot and steered them to the Danube, where a S.H.I.E.L.D. base was disguised as an elite cruise ship. He sat on top of her on the stretcher, never releasing his hands from her abdomen until a doctor that he recognized and trusted was there to take over. He was left outside of the OR's doors like in some kind of movie.

He turned and to his boss, Natasha's last words to him echoing though out his head in whispers and screams: "Don't be such an old woman, Hawkeye." He gave his report, then walked back towards the doors and the seats next to them. Coulson had come to collect the newbie for her report, and she stopped for a moment and looked at him.

"So, first time in Budapest?"

A/N: Hah. Hah. Hah...?

By the way, the title of this story, "Feels Like Rain", is the name of a John Hiatt song that is on my playlist that I listen to while I fall asleep (Or try to...) I love it, and the more I listen to it, the more I think of Clintasha. Or maybe I just need to sleep more. Take a listen and lemme know what you think. OH AND ALSO: no one told me their favorite milkshake flavor... :(