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“On your left!”
Clint pulled back his arrow and released it, the arrow shooting right through the tracksuits hood and pinning him back against the wall.
“Did you seriously just reference Steve?”
“You know it!” Kate winked, shooting an arrow up at the hallways ceiling, a cloud of intoxicating smoke surrounding the oncoming men. The two archers fought back to back, calling shots whenever one of the tracksuits got too close. They were a good working pair; Kate was able to keep her voice steady on the side of Clint’s hearing aid; he never once missed an important call from her.
He also didn’t miss the dink! of something hard and metal falling onto his partner.
Clint looked down to see Kate on the floor, blood seeping through her hair and a metal rod laying next to her, as if it was innocent.
Well, shit.
Clint protected Kate with his own body the best he could, but with more area to cover, he needed more range. So he took some of her trick arrows and did his best to gently push Kate underneath the desk in a cubicle.
A metal pipe taking his partner out certainly wasn’t on the list of possibilities, but with the job comes surprises. Best he could do now is take all of the oncomers out little by little.
–
Ringing.
Kate. Kate, can you-
The ringing is becoming overwhelming.
There’s noise, but it sounds muffled. Are those gunshots?
Kate. Kate, you need to-
God, this is a horrible headache. I want to sleep.
Kate!
Her eyes opened.
“Kate, thank god,” a voice sighed in relief. “Come on, we gotta go.”
Kate tried to speak but nothing came out. All she could do was observe.
Clint seemed to pull her out from under a desk (when did she get there?) and hoisted her up so he could put his arms under the back of her knees and put a secure hand behind her back to carry her. Kate looked around; multiple men on the ground, lights busted out. It seems like Clint collected some of the arrows she shot earlier, based on their missing presence. Her gaze drifted down to the floor where her eyes met a metal pipe.
So that’s the fucker that knocked me out. Didn’t know an inanimate object was on their side.
Kate swallowed, her voice hoarse. “What…”
“We’re leaving before any more come, kid. You hit your head pretty bad.”
“I didn’t hit it,” Kate mumbled. “It hit me.”
Clint chuckled, planting a zip hook to the carpeted floor before carefully shuffling out the window with Kate in his arms, letting the wind lead them down the stories of the building.
“It’s like I’m flying!” Kate cheered woozily, a cheesy grin on her lips.
“You get a lot of that with the job!”
Kate beamed in response, giving a thumbs up. Clint rolled his eyes before his feet met the ground. Unclipping the connection to the zip-wire, he readjusted his grip on her.
“Let’s get you home, kid.”
–
“We should really take Lucky out for a walk.”
“Nuh-uh. You will stay put.” Kate’s arm was around his shoulder, feet moving sluggishly through the hallway of the apartment. Clint slid her off his shoulders into the recliner, Kate practically melting into the comforting cushions. “You hear me?”
“Whatever you say, Dad.”
Dad.
Clint turned his back to her, headed towards the kitchen, a tug on the side of his lips. Dad.
“Alright,” Clint muttered under his breath with a crack of his knuckles. “Let’s see what we got here.” He swung open the freezer door.
Frozen beans. Frozen corn. Frozen peas.
He grabbed the frozen vegetable bags, picked up the stray gauze laying on the counter, and sat on the coffee table directly in front of Kate.
“Lift your head up.”
Kate swiveled her head to the side before she adjusted her neck to stand upright, smiling. Clint placed two frozen bags to each side of her head with a scoff. “Hold these.”
Kate held the packs loosely, Clint pushing one to the back of her head and wrapping gauze around it with his elbow on her head. “Do you have a headache?”
“Not anymore.”
“Tired?”
“Yup,” Kate dragged out, popping the p at the end.
“Nausea?”
“If I keep talking, yeah.”
“Shit,” Clint sighed, finishing the gauze off before leaning back properly. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to stay out of the light and sleep, alright?”
Kate hummed in affirmation.
“Once you wake up again, we’re washing that wound.”
“Dude… that’s going to hurt like a bitch.”
Clint huffed in amusement, giving Kate’s knee a pat as he stood up. “I’m going to take Lucky out for a walk and get some stuff to clean that wound while I’m at it. You need anything?”
Kate hummed a no, tucking herself in between her knees.
“That posture isn’t good for your back, y’know.”
“I can do what I want.”
Clint rolled his eyes, picking up a knit blanket on the side of the couch, unfolding it, and placing it gently over the sleeping figure.
What did he get himself into now?
–
“Nuh-uh.”
“Kate, get in the tub.”
“Why can’t we just do it over the sink,” she whined.
“Alright,” Clint held up his hands in surrender. “Be my guest. But I will not be held responsible for how sick you’ll feel after hanging your head sideways.”
Kate let out a huff of annoyance, shutting the door to the bathroom. “What am I even supposed to wear?”
“A t-shirt!” Clint called, grabbing a few towels from the closet. “Look, I promise as soon as I clean your wound, I’m going to leave you to the bathroom. But if you don’t come out in ten minutes after that, I’m going to presume you fainted and I’ll come in and get you myself.”
A sigh of defeat could be heard from behind the doors, an ‘Alright, Jesus,’ following along with it. “You can come in.”
Clint pushed the door open with a nudge of his foot, setting the towels in his hands on the sink. Kate was in the tub already, hugging her knees. Her head lolled to the side; the fatigue was obvious in her posture. He’d have to make this quick.
Clint turned the faucet on, checking the temperature with his hands before pulling the tap up to initiate the water out of the head. “Stick out your hand.” Kate raised it from the bottom of the tub to let him run the water over her palm.
“This good?”
Kate nodded sleepily. “‘ts good.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Clint said, not giving Kate time to process his words before he ran the water on top of her scalp. Kate huffed an exhale of pain letting out a small ‘ow’, grabbing her knees tighter.
Clint pushed Kate’s hair aside as best he could to see the wound properly. Through the dark hue of her hair, he could see a purplish blue around a red cut, already scabbing over.
“You’re gonna need to go to the hospital for this, kid,” he sighed, grabbing the yellow bottle of shampoo from the side of the tub. “Hold this.”
“What?”
“The shower head,” Clint repeated. “Hold it for a moment.”
Kate raised an arm moving at sloth’s pace, the water facing down to spray on her toes. Clint poured the shampoo into one of his hands, clipping the cap shut of the bottle using the other hand to put back. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Clint gently lathered the shampoo around the bruising, careful to not let any drip into the cut. Kate wasn’t reacting as bad as he thought she would; she seemed to focus her gaze on the water spraying onto her toes, mumbling something.
“What’d you say?”
“I said that’s not what banana shampoo should smell like.”
Clint chuckled. “You’d know.”
Clint lathered the shampoo through Kate’s scalp, gently massaging the bruised area around the cut. He loosely ran his fingers down to the ends of her hair, carelessly running through the tangles. That wasn’t his main concern; it was up higher.
Once Clint was done, he aimed to grab the shower handle, but Kate (thankfully) motioned for him to put his hands under the water and rinse the soap off. He hummed in thanks before taking it and gently rinsing the soap off her hair.
The wound was small but seemed to be deep. He could easily push the two disturbed pieces of flesh together and have that be that, but there’s no method of cleaning out any potential bacteria in such a thin wound that he knew of. She was going to have to go to the hospital.
Clint carelessly ran the water over the ends of her hair, bringing it up again to focus on keeping the wound clean. As soon as he thought all was well, he handed the shower head to Kate and pushed himself up off his feet with a grunt, patting her on the shoulder.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Remember, ten minutes or I’m getting your ass.”
Clint could practically hear her eyes roll in her words. “Okay, dad.”
Dad.
Clint leaned on the outside of the bathroom, listening to the water run.
She kept calling him dad.
It had to be because of the concussion, right? She must be mistaking him for her actual dad. That’s the only logical explanation to come out of this. Or is the concussion letting all the words she thinks flow out of her mouth freely? He really needs to get her to the hospital.
Oh god, is he going to take on another stray?
Clint opened the door to the fridge, pulling out a water bottle and pulling out a glass from the cupboard above it. He flicked the cap of the bottle into the recycling bin and poured the water into the glass before leaning against the counter. He crossed his arms in a thinking manner.
Dad.
Clint called Lucky and poured his empty bowl full of food, running his hand along his back before bringing the bag of supplies to the coffee table. He began taking things out of the bag, setting them nicely in order of importance, just as Laura did. It made him smile, thinking about his wife. He couldn’t wait to go home and see her again, but now, he has a more important task at hand.
He checked his timer.
“Kate?” Clint called.
“Don’t come in! I’m almost done!”
Clint prepared a tiny wash rag and gauze at the coffee table, still standing so he wouldn’t struggle to get back up.
Kate opened the door to the bathroom only for Clint to see her still in the t-shirt she wore in the bathtub. The shirt was soaked and making a mess on the floor, something Clint definitely wasn’t happy about having to clean up later.
“Ah,” Clint pointed his finger at Kate. “You, stay.”
He swiftly grabbed a led zeppelin shirt from her closet and some shorts and undies from her wardrobe before coming back and tossing them at her.
“Aw, dude,” Kate huffed. “You went through my underwear drawer?”
Okay. Maybe that was something Clint didn’t think about thoroughly.
“I have three kids, Kate.” Clint raised a brow. “I do laundry daily.”
Kate just shrugged. “Fair point,” she said, shutting the door.
She came out again shortly and sat down on the couch, bouncing a bit from the rebound. “The light hurts my eyes.”
“I know,” Clint sighed, sitting down on the coffee table. “It’ll just be for a moment so I can see. Turn around.”
Kate turned around, back facing him. He took a hair tie (where did he even get one?) and put her hair up in a bun on one side with skill. Half of her hair was let down, split just where the wound was.
“This is gonna burn.”
“Just get it over with.”
Clint looked down to apply rubbing alcohol to the handkerchief in his hand, before going over the wound and dabbing it lightly. Kate visibly flinched, hands clenching in her lap. He swiftly applied a thin bandage to the cut; once he was satisfied, he let Kate’s hair fall. “Tada. All done.”
Kate turned back around with a lazy grin. “Back to the chair.”
Clint helped her up, making sure she stepped carefully around the table. She didn’t need much help, though– Kate moved dexterously to the big recliner, plopping down into the comfort of it and melting instantly.
Clint watched her adjust herself to a comfortable position in silence, placing a blanket over her once she settled. He finished patching her wound; what was he supposed to do now?
“You need anything else?”
Kate shook her head and mumbled under her breath.
“What’s up?”
“Thank you,” she repeated. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”
Clint's eyes softened. “No problem, kid.”
“Y’know,” Kate started. “I bet you’re an awesome dad to your kids if you did this all for me.”
“Kate,” Clint sighed, sitting on the couch where Kate previously was. “You’re my partner. Partners are family.”
“But I caused so much mess and problems for you.”
“Kate.” Clint turned to her, making eye contact. “We’re in this together, alright? Your mess is my mess.”
Kate closed her eyes with a smile. “‘M gonna sleep now.”
“Goodnight, kid.” Clint smiled though she couldn’t see it. “There’ll be coffee in the morning.”
“Woooo,” Kate cheered softly. “You’re the best dad ever.”
Dad.
Clint looked at the figure, face half obscured by it melting into the cushion. She was well passed out by now; Clint’s sure she’s been fighting sleep this entire time. As soon as she wakes up, likely tomorrow, they’re going straight to the hospital.
He pet Lucky behind the ears, leaning his head back. He cared for her as if she was one of his own and didn’t even think twice about it.
Perhaps he did take on another stray.