Chapter Text
It goes without saying that being an Avenger is a dangerous job. There's always an ever present danger that encompasses what they do. Which is why Bucky is pissed that a run of the mill car crash is what took Clint out.
They hadn't even been coming back from a mission. They'd been on a roadtrip to celebrate their anniversary. The roads had been icy but not enough to cause any concern. Bucky remembers laughing about some joke Clint had been telling. But then Clint's expression had sharpened. Even when relaxed, Clint's eyes were keener than most.
'Buck. That truck ain't stopping.'
Apparently there had been a fault with its breaks. And the ice had made it impossible to control. It crashed straight into their car.
The pair were buckled in and the airbags had deployed. But Clint's head had been knocked back into the window, smashing it and knocking him unconscious.
Bucky had similarly been knocked out, but he had the serum running through his veins. He was up as the ambulance arrived on the scene.
Clint however… Clint was much more human.
And he still hasn’t woken up.
He'd been in a coma for weeks to give the swelling in his head a chance to go down. Bucky only left the medical floor when Steve dragged him away to shower. He wasn't shy about reminding Bucky about how pissed Clint would be if he found out Bucky wasn't taking care of himself.
After almost a month, Clint finally wakes up.
'He'll be disoriented. Give him some room.' The nurse says gently.
Bucky waits with bated breath as Clint grumbles his protests at being roused awake. Eventually, Clint sits up in the hospital bed, rubbing his eyes as they adjust to the bright lights. His sharp eyes scan the room and Bucky notices him click his fingers, frowning to himself.
Bucky knows that trick. Clint is testing to see if it's just quiet or if he can't hear. He gives Clint what he hopes is an encouraging smile and points to the hearing aids on the bedside table.
Clint cautiously takes the devices and slips them into his ears. He tilts his head as he adjusts to the sudden influx of sound. 'Who the hell are you?'
***
Clint is used to hospital rooms. But nothing this fancy. It's all sterile white and filled with machines Clint couldn't even begin to name.
There's a nurse checking the readings from one of them while two men gawk at him. It makes Clint's skin crawl.
They're both huge and muscular in a way that makes Clint feel like he's about to be beaten up for his lunch money. One has bright blond hair and vaguely reminds Clint of the Captain America comics he had growing up. The brunette is much nicer to look at. His long hair has been brushed back in a messy man-bun and he's staring at Clint with such an intensity that he'd assume his heart had skipped a beat if he couldn't hear the steady beat of the machine monitoring his pulse.
Clint glances down at Hot Guy's hands, reflexively checking for weapons. One is entirely metal, which is weird but he's seen weirder.
The other hand has a wedding ring. Shame.
'Who the hell are you?'
The nurse turns, finishing writing her notes. 'Mr Barnes-'
'You must have the wrong guy. I'm Clint Barton.'
The woman freezes for a moment, she glances at the two beefcakes before returning her attention to him. 'Apologies. Mr Barton. You were in a car crash. You're in the medical facility of Avenger Tower.'
'What's Avenger Tower?'
The men frown, exchanging worried glances.
'Clint...' Blondie starts, a nervous edge to his voice that undercuts his intimidating demeanour. 'Do you remember us?'
'Think I'd remember guys like you.' Clint says, shaking his head.
Hot Guy storms out.
Blondie winces. 'I'm sorry. I'll.... I'm glad you're awake Clint.' He gestures to the nurse. 'Annie will explain, just... Listen to her, okay?' He says, practically begging, before chasing the man down the hallway.
The woman looks a bit out of her depth but recovers with a fake smile. 'Like I was saying. You were in an accident. You've been in a coma for the past month and seem to have some memory loss.'
'...Ah, that probably explains why I feel like shit.'
'That'll do it.' She says with a sympathetic expression. 'We'll have a neurologist check you out and see if there's anything we can do. If we're lucky, you may just need a few reminders to jog your memory.'
'And if I'm not?'
'...Let's not think about the worst case scenario right now.' She says softly, handing him a glass of water. 'Get comfortable, I'll be back with a doctor soon.'
***
Back on Steve's floor of the tower, Bucky punches a hole through the wall.
It doesn't help him feel better. He doubts anything could.