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Kate trembled, staring at her hand. With all the other aches over her, her hand was the worst. She tried to move it a little, maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. It barely moved. Definitely as bad as it looked.
Kate lay alone in an old warehouse, garish orange lights were flickering above her. The only noise being the quiet humming of those lights and her own heavy, uncontrolled breathing. A stream of light illuminated her phone just a few feet away.
She had been holding it, mumbling out curses under her breath hidden behind now broken crates. Then they found her, then they pushed her down and fought her, then they smashed her phone and her hand in the process, and now she was alone, still lying there.
Kate choked back a sob. Pulling herself up and backing against the wall. She didn't want to think about all the places she was bleeding out. What a way to go.
Dead. They were all dead. They were going to kill her and perhaps they had but she didn't want them dead. Why hadn't she been killed? One of the men, the one that had restrained her whilst her hand was smashed up, lay almost inside out. Empty faraway look in his eyes, of course, he was dead. He couldn't have been much older than her, it wasn't his fault he was in this life. That's what Kate was beginning to realise.
She curled herself up, she didn't want to look at them anymore. She was alone, half dead. Alone, in a dead warehouse.
There was the echo of a door screeching open then slamming shut. The patter of footsteps. Her body tensed but couldn't move at the impact of the incoming contact. But then it was gentle and warm and familiar. Kate peeked out of the shell she had formed around herself, spotting a familiar bright purple hearing aid.
He wrapped himself around her, gently kneeling next to her he muttered words she didn't focus on. He pushed her hair out of her face, and gently inspected her.
Kate's bottom lip trembled when she saw his bright blue eyes, the care and concern across his face.
He let her cry, even when it made his clothes all wet. He only whispered, "you're okay, you're okay, you're okay." In response.
Clint made her sit at the back so she could sit more comfortably. Kate's eyes met each lamppost when they got to it, illuminated in the dark, then they would zoom past and it would be left behind. Clint didn't say a word, but kept glancing back and forth at her through the rearview mirror. Chewing the inside of his cheek which he always did when he was worried. She didn't say a word either, too exhausted, too sorry.
Kate let him patch her up. Cotton wool and bandages and every thing you could ever possibly need in a first aid kit was on her kitchen counter. She pretended not to hear the worried, "Katie's.." he mumbled under his breath. She winced at the stitches, it never got any easier.
Then he got to her hand. Clint lifted it carefully, inspecting it and clearly trying to hold back a wince. He asked her to move it, she barely could.
Kate clenched her teeth, "it's bad isn't it."
His eyes flickered up to look at her but immediately flickered back down. "It's futzed, but it'll heal." He had tried to smile reassuringly. "Don't worry Katie Kate, I've had way worse." He ruffled her hair.
"Don't tell me I'm gonna end up like you." She sighed teasingly.
"Hey!" He laughed. "You're good Hawkeye, but you're not me good." He grinned arrogantly.
Kate had rolled her eyes in response and said, "thank god." That made Clint laugh harder.
The two sat on her sofa, tea in hands and Kate with a straw so she didn't have to lift the mug each time she took a sip. Lucky snuggled in between them. Clint had asked if she wanted him to call America. But she couldn't, she just shook her head and gripped Clint's hand. She didn't want him to go.
So here they were, watching one of Clint's favourite old cowboy movies and sipping tea through a swirly straw.
She later asked how he found her. She had been following that gang for awhile, convinced it was small and didn't need to involve the west coast avengers. The weapons deal, she thought, would be her time to catch them by surprise, and get the whole gang arrested. She had even crafted up some net arrows for the occasion. But she didn't do enough research into who they were dealing the weapons to.
There was always something.
Arriving there, realising her mistake, needing back up and getting caught. Fighting and fighting using anything she could find. Then they all went down. A thunder of bullets and she hadn't been hit. But she hadn't even had time to call or text or anything. So how had Clint found her?
Clint had been in New York last Kate knew, spending a lot of time with one Linda Carter. She was too good for him, Kate had teased, and it seemed she had been right.
So he had come down to the west coast to clear his head. Days on the road, and bringing back Lucky whilst he was at it.
The two basically shared custody of the dog like divorced parents.
When she didn't answer her door, when the other west coast avengers were woken up by Clint's search and had nothing much to say about her whereabouts. That's when he got scared. Kate wasn't stupid, well, she could be, but ordinarily she was pretty smart.
He called her and called her and called her. Nothing.
Eventually Clint got a lead, some guy in hospital, he'd been involved in the whole mess, didn't want to be. People never really did.
The sight of the warehouse made Clint feel sick, seeing the inside made him feel worse. Seeing Kate just made him scared.
The two archers spent the rest of the night curled up next to each other. Neither really watching the film but needing something to fill the space.
Kate couldn't stop staring at her hand, bandaged and broken and wrong. Clint told her to stop thinking about it, to let it heal. He was right, he usually was - she'd never admit it.
They couldn't sleep, so they watched films and ate popcorn, when they got bored of that they talked. They talked all night, they cried but they kept talking. The conversation never stayed on one topic; it jumped around, sometimes going so fast they talked over each other, sometimes turning into nothing but mumbling, especially as they got earlier into the morning.
Kate eventually nodded off. She leaned heavily against Clint. Lucky stuffed across both their laps happily snoring as he slept. Clint studied Kate, her expression worn and tired nevermind all her cuts and bruises. She was just a kid. Sometimes he forgot how young she was.
Her kit was scattered across her floor, left discarded when the priority was patching her up. Her bow was in bad shape after that fight.
Clint slipped out the sofa, carefully pulling a blanket over Kate, leaving her to snore in her deep sleep.
He got to work on her bow, tucking himself into a workbench in the corner of the small apartment. Going through the familiar process of fixing up a bow.
When Kate woke up she was met with a pleasant cooking smell. Getting up, her body stiff with a light limp when she took a step. Nothing that wouldn't heal.
Clint was in the kitchen. He looked like a fish out of water Kate had told him, yawning. Clint laughed and shrugged.
They ate together, wolfing down the meal of scrambled eggs and toast and sausages. A radio Kate had picked up from a second hand shop blared in the background playing old music.
Clint got up, Kate's eyes followed him around the room with a questioning gaze. Then he picked up her bow. It had been fully fixed, improved in fact.
Clint shrugged, "thought it could do with some work…" she grinned in response.
"It looks awesome…" but her smile faltered a little.
Clint looked at her gently, "your hands will heal Kate."
"I know. Just-" she shook her head, "it's stupid."
"Try me." He shot back.
She said, looking down at her hands, "They got hurt so bad so easily. They're all I can fight with. Now I'm useless until they're fine. I'm meant to be the leader of the West Coast Avengers Clint." She sighed. "Just reminding me… I'm human."
Clint nodded. "Yeah. You're human." She looked up to him. "So am I Katie. And I was also the leader of the west coast avengers remember. And you're a good leader. Not just 'cus you can hit a target, but because you're human."
He punched her shoulder jovially, "we're Hawkeyes. We're awesome, we don't need superpowers."
She snorted, "yeah yeah…"
"I get it though. It's tough."
Kate nodded.
They spent the rest of the day tracking down the guys that had taken down the weapons dealers in the warehouse. Both of them hunched over various surfaces in Kate's apartment, looking on laptops and maps, making calls pretending to be people they were definitely not.
America came over a bit later in the afternoon, immediately hugging Kate, and not letting go for at least 5 minutes. She kissed her head and cheek and told her she was an idiot. Kate had laughed and cried and hugged her back.
The three of them collapsed on the sofa, after America and Clint went out for snacks and they sat together and laughed and talked while watching crappy reality shows and getting way too into it.
Kate loved her friends. She looked at her refurbished bow, cleaned and a purple shine to it. Clint was an idiot, a dumbass who had a knack at screwing up his life but he also had an incredible knack for being there exactly when you needed him. And she had really needed him.
She watched as Clint and America started debating loudly the ins and outs of who they thought was gonna win. Kate just sat there and laughed at them