Work Text:
Clint pulled at his restraints again, hissing in pain when the movement aggravated the cuts and gashes on his arms and chest. The bad guy du jour that had somehow snuck up on him during his reconnaissance mission was very knife-happy, and he’d only gotten more enthusiastic the tighter-lipped Clint became. But like hell was he going to throw his teammate under the bus like that.
Yet another person was after Bucky, or the famed winter soldier, even though his honeybun was going on three years without an episode. Clint worried at his lip, hoping that his disappearance on their mission didn’t spark one. They’d had their ups and downs during missions like this, with both or either getting hurt real bad, without an appearance of Bucky’s alter ego...but still. He’d hate for Bucky to go through that again.
The clunk of the metal door unlocking in front of him jolted him out of his thoughts, and Clint straightened up in the chair. A shock of pain went up his arms at the movement, but he didn’t let it show in his expression as he catalogued the man entering the room.
Tall, white, with greasy blond hair down to his chin. His eyes were rimmed with red, looking frantically back and forth, the skin on his face gaunt and pale, everything creating a very manic expression. He had been smug and almost gleeful when the interrogation and slicing first started, but that quickly turned into frustration as the hours swept by. Now...he looked scared. The man froze momentarily when he noticed Clint was already staring at him, but recovered rapidly.
Closing the door behind him with a bang, he quickly shuffled up to Clint. Muttering under his breath, he checked Clint’s restraints, yanking on the ropes and giggling when that made Clint curse at the renewed pain.
“Are you ready to talk, Hawk-guy?” he whispered into Clint’s ear. Clint resolutely did not shudder at the close contact, glaring at the man as he walked back into Clint’s eyesight. The man laughed again, a high, reedy sound, before he went behind Clint again. A few seconds later, the feeling of that cool blade on his neck sent a shiver down Clint’s spine, and he mentally prepared himself for more of the torture.
A loud bang shocked the both of them out of the moment, and Clint’s gaze shot up to the metal door. He grinned when he saw the small dent already made, his smile only growing when another bang made the dent bigger. The flat of the blade sliding underneath his chin brought his attention straight back to the man already in the room with him.
A third bang, and the door burst inwards to reveal Clint’s knight in black, tactical armor. Bucky had a gun raised already, sharp grey eyes taking in every single detail, fury burning bright at the sight of Clint with a knife to his neck.
“How you doing there sweetness?”
Clint rolled his eyes at how gruff Bucky made his voice, managing to get out an “All good” before the man pressed the knife harder against his neck. He could feel a trickle of blood travel down to his shirt, and knew Bucky saw it when he cocked his gun.
“Release him now, or I will shoot you!”
The man hesitated at the clicking of Bucky’s gun, but then screamed, “If I’m going down, I’m taking him with me!” Faster than they expected, he swung his arm down, lodging the knife deep under Clint’s ribcage.
Clint couldn’t help the guttural scream that was ripped from his throat, pain shooting through his entire body. He barely heard the gunshot as Bucky fired at the man a second later, barely noticed the man falling to the ground, only choked back another scream when the movement jostled the knife sticking out of his body.
“-ney, look at me. Clint, baby please, show me those beautiful blues.” Clint blearily opened his eyes, having not realized that they’d closed. Bucky’s face went in and out of focus in front of him, and it made him dizzy so he closed his eyes.
There was a weird weightless sensation, then a cool hand on his cheek made him open his eyes again. “I need you to stay awake baby, just a little longer. I’m getting you to safety, you just need to stay awake, all right?” Bucky said, fear smothering every syllable.
Clint was sure Bucky was running as smoothly as he could, but a particularly hard jolt had him coughing up blood. He clutched weakly at Bucky’s chest, choking out a, “It hurts.”
Bucky cursed above him, then the arms around Clint tightened slightly and he could feel the pace of his running increase. The last thing he heard before blacking out was Bucky saying, “I’ve got you Clint, I’ve got you.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Clint groaned, the steady beeping of the heart monitor gradually waking him up. A soft shuffling came from the left of him, and he tilted his head into the warm hand that caressed his cheek the next second. Blinking open his eyes, Clint gave his boyfriend a small smile. “Hello handsome,” he croaked out, grimacing at the dryness.
Bucky nudged Clint’s chin, bringing a cup of ice chips into his view. Clint opened his mouth, gratefully sucking on the ice and sighing when it soothed his throat. He brought his own hand up, brushing a strand of hair from in front of Bucky’s face. His very serious face.
Pouting, Clint slowly poked at Bucky’s cheeks, then his lips, manipulating the corner of his mouth into a slight smile. He grinned, chuckling softly when Bucky huffed out a laugh in response to his actions.
Clearing his throat, those grey eyes shining slightly with tears, Bucky gently lifted Clint’s hand from the bed. He smiled softly again as he watched Clint try to keep his heavy eyelids open, and whispered, “Sleep, doll. I’ll be here.” He leaned up slightly to kiss Clint’s forehead, then cheek, before sitting back down. “I’ve got you.”