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“Dad! Dad!”
The panic in his daughter’s voice made Clint’s blood run ice-cold. He ran out of the barn and met the girl in the yard. “Lila? What’s going on?”
Lila doubled over, panting, trying to regain her breath. “Nate…on the lake…fell in—”
Clint didn’t give her a chance to explain further; he took off running. It took what seemed an eternity before he reached the pond, and his trained eyes immediately spotted them through the cold fog of his breath. Cooper, one arm around his brother's limp form, tried to gain leverage to haul them both up onto the ice, but it broke with each effort. His movements were slowing, and Clint's heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
"Cooper!" He shouted, and when his son didn't hear him, he tried again. "Cooper!" He stepped out onto the edge of the frozen lake, cautious but faster than he knew he should.
The boy's head whipped up, and the sheer terror in his eyes had Clint forcing himself to breathe steadily. Don't panic. People do stupid things when they panic.
Once he was a few feet from the shore, he laid out on the ice and crawled. He knew it only took maybe twenty seconds to reach his sons, but it was twenty seconds too long. Impatience warred with good sense. His heart screamed faster, faster, but his head was the cool voice that knew that if he wanted to make sure both of his sons survived, he couldn't rush it.
He really hated logic.
Finally he made it, ignoring the rising panic at the white of Cooper's face and the blue of Nate's lips. "I'm here, Coop." He reached toward them. "Can you lift him? Just a little higher?" He kept his voice low and calm. "Thatta boy. Just a little further—there." he pulled Nate the rest of the way onto the ice. "I've got you, buddy," He whispered, then turned and held out a hand for Cooper. "Grab my arm." The boy grasped his arm in a shaking, claw-like grip, and Clint held on as tightly as he could to keep his son from slipping back in. Finally, all three of them were on the ice.
Clint gripped Nate's coat in his fist and slowly shoved back to where Lila and Laura now waited on the shore. He glanced back every few seconds to give Cooper a hand, and after what seemed like an eternity, they were close enough to the shore that Clint stood and drug Nate the rest of the way. He shed his coat and tossed it to Cooper. "Coop, take my coat—Laura, help him. Lila, let me have yours for Nate." He ripped Nate's own wet coat off and felt his neck for a pulse—weak. But he wasn't breathing. A band tightened around Clint's chest.
"Lila! Your coat!" He snapped.
"I'm sorry, I'm trying, it's caught on my—there." She handed it to him, face hovering on the verge of tears. He wrapped it around Nate, placed his hands on his son's chest, and began compressions. One, two, three, four, five, six… checked for breathing again. Nothing. One, two three, four, five, six... Again, nothing. Clint's eyes burned, and he fought the trembling in his chin. "Come on, Nate," He muttered. One, two, three, four— suddenly the boy's body convulsed, choking, and Clint rolled him onto his side while the boy gagged. He closed his eyes in relief, and a lone tear made a track down his cheek.
He was broken from his reverie by the sound of an ambulance siren approaching. For a moment, his mind went through a million different outcomes of this—their address would become public, they'd have to move, his kids would be uprooted from everything they knew…he looked at Nate's face. None of it mattered
But what if they wouldn't be okay? His head pounded, and he locked eyes with Laura, finding the panic he felt mirrored there.
"I'm going to show them where to come." His wife's voice shook, and she turned and headed back through the trees.
When she had left, Clint turned to Cooper and Lila, all the stress and terror from the incident boiling to the surface again. "What were you two thinking? "
"D-dad, I'm sorry, it was m-my—"
Clint cut him off. "Nate should've known better. But you two?" His voice rose, and he couldn't stop it. "Why did you even let him go out on that lake?" How could you be so…stupid? He shouldn't take it out on his family; it was an accident. He knew that. But the thought of going through life without any of them—again—was more than he could face.
Cooper's already-white face paled even further, and he stared wide-eyed at Nate, shivering uncontrollably. "Is he g-gonna be all ri-right?"
Clint ran a hand through his hair and took a deep, calming breath, ashamed for his harsh words. "I…I don't know, Coop."
It took entirely too long for the EMS workers to make their way back to the lake, and when they finally had Nate on a stretcher, he hovered no more than three feet away.
He would have stepped onto the ambulance behind them, but Laura's soft hand on his arm pulled him back. Her eyes held a spark of anger. "What did you say to them?" She nodded her head at their eldest children. "They look traumatized."
Clint swallowed hard. "I just…" He sighed and rubbed his face, steeling himself for the migraine he could feel forming. "You go on ahead. Lila and I will follow in the truck."
Laura studied his face, then nodded and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I love you."
"You too." He squeezed her hand and helped her into the back of the ambulance, then turned to Cooper and Lila, who both stood shivering in the frigid wind. He mentally kicked himself for not paying closer attention—to any of his kids.
"Lila, go get the truck." He could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "Cooper, you're going with your mom." He held up a hand to stave off any protests from the boy who would have been taken by the paramedics by force anyway. "No arguing, just…just do what I tell you. Please. And…" he hesitated, laying a hand on his oldest son's shoulder, "I'm sorry for what I said. If it wasn't for you, Coop…he wouldn't still be with us." He turned to the house, pausing long enough to watch the ambulance pull out of the lane, and walked through the door with a sigh.
His head really hurt.
He didn't realize he'd been just standing there until Lila entered the house behind him. "Dad?" Her voice was a mixture of confusion and concern. "Are you all right?"
He swallowed hard and tried to force a smile, but gave up. "No…not really." He heaved a sigh and stared down the hall toward Cooper's room. He should be scrambling to get his son an extra set of clothes, running out the door, breaking world speed records to get to the hospital, using his usual laser-like Hawkeye focus, but his feet seemed rooted to the floor. With any ordinary mission, he'd be able to perform his tasks without thinking.
But it was his family. His family. And he was thinking entirely too much.
"I'm sorry, Lila." He let out a long, slow sigh and fought the exhaustion that flooded him in the absence of adrenaline. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her head to his chest, planting a kiss to her hair. "I feel like I'm barely treading water here. I guess I'm just…so worried about losing you all— again— that I just…went overboard."
Her arms snaked around his waist and squeezed.
It was the only response he needed.