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Evac called, Clint dropped down and gathered his partner's crumpled form into his arms. "I keep telling you not to jump off of moving aircraft," he chided softly, failing to keep the worry out of his tone.
Natasha curled against him as she rarely allowed herself. "It's just my ankle," she gasped.
And a few dozen abrasions, but who was counting?
"Promise me everything will be okay?" she asked, voice quiet and small.
Clint leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Promise."
She let him hold her, like the little girl she'd never been allowed to be, until their evac came.