Tony had been sent to collect Clint; Steve and Bruce hadn't had time to get him too. Unfortunately for Tony that meant posing as a cop, informing a man that his wife was now critically ill in hospital. It was important to keep cover on the slim chance this whole thing was unrelated to the Nazari mission, and his Iron Man suit was anything but subtle.
Clint answered the door wearing nothing but joggers, his hair still damp from the shower. "What is it Rosie? You forget your... What, what's wrong?" his voice was panicked, his eyes wide and fearful of the news he was about to receive. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this Mr. Watson, but your wife is very ill. I've come to take you to the hospital" Clint could do nothing but nod. Grabbing a t shirt from his draw he followed Tony silently from the apartment, not even pausing to lock the door.
As soon as they were on their way he asked the question which had formed in his mind the moment he'd first seen Tony stood at his door: "Is she dead?" "No, but it doesn't look good, I'm sorry man. I was told to prepare you but..." Tony faltered, a tear rolled down his cheek. Clint slumped down in the car seat. He couldn't do this, not without Nat. He didn't know how to live without her; their partnership defined him, their relationship gave him reason to live. They were two halves of a whole; she had to survive, Clint wouldn't give her a choice. Besides, she'd been through bad before, they both had.


Natasha could feel people milling around her, jabbing needles into her arms, attaching monitors and taking reading. She felt nauseous; uncomfortable with a tube down her throat, her head ached; causing a searing pain down her spine which was more than she thought she could cope with. Her mind faded in and out of focus, thoughts fading before they could fully form. Her hands and feet had been strapped to the bed at some point; violent seizures left her muscles aching and heavy with fatigue. She heard various people around her room; some she knew, some she didn't. She heard Fury and Hill, Steve and Bruce, but no Clint; he hadn't arrived yet and that worried her. She could only hope that he was okay.

Tony supported Clint as he clumsily made his way up to the medical bay; the shock of what had happened had clearly affected him. The two assassins were used to being shot and stabbed; physical wounds that could be seen and fixed, an enemy to fight; but this was something different. They hadn't yet identified what had happened, all they knew was the effects Natasha was suffering through: she was conscious but unresponsive, she had a fever and could no longer breath on her own. Seizures had started not long after she'd arrived at SHIELD and had progressively gotten worse. The medical staff were also expressing concerns about brain damage, but Tony was choosing to ignore all of this; intending to find a cure himself if he had to!

Clint walked slowly towards her, stumbling slightly on his way. Everyone had gone silent, watching as he made his way to his partner. All the eyes fixed on him made him more determine not to let the tears that were burning his eyes fall.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, never wanting to let go. He hoped she was aware enough to know he was here with her.