Avengers Fic: Don't Forget to Duck
Title: Don't Forget to Duck
Author: Harkpad
Rating: PG (violence)
Words: 1519
Warnings: None
Pairings: None
Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Rest of the Team
Summary: Hawkeye watches as a test of a new weapon goes awry for Captain America, and Clint's growing friendship with Steve bleeds through as he wonders if Cap can pull through this time. Friendship Fic.
Cross Posted.
Hawkeye had a good vantage point above the street where the rest of the team was fighting Doom's soldiers, who were attacking City Hall and trying to take out the Avengers that day. There were at least a hundred of them, and Hawkeye was reloading as fast as anyone could. He was also trying to keep an eye on his teammates, and was, therefore, watching when the explosion from the edge of the ranks of enemy soldiers sent Captain America careening into the side of the building and the wall of the building came crumbling down around him.
Hawkeye couldn't do anything. He had to keep unloading arrows into the ranks, and hope that the new weapon Iron Man had invented worked. They were trying a new strategy today, trying to keep the enemy bunched together so that the chain reactor weapon could be tested on a real foe.
It did work, but Iron Man had been a minute late in deploying it. Once it went off, though, the enemy was wiped up in less than five minutes.
That meant it was six minutes too late in Hawkeye's mind.
“Sit here,” Cap said as he led Clint to the couch. “I’ll get you a drink.” Clint sat and put his head in his hands. He’d spent an afternoon in an air duct after a meeting with Fury went bad and Clint had lost his shit in front of everyone because Fury was being an asshole. Cap sat at the air duct exit with a book for two hours until Clint finally acquiesced to come down and let Cap take him back to the Tower to get over it.
He scrambled down from his perch, bowstring taut with an arrow waiting for any surprises. Thor and Black Widow were already standing amidst the rubble, trying to clear it away and find the Captain. Just as Hawkeye landed from his jump to the ground, Iron Man landed nearby and threw his face plate up.
"Goddamit! I told you guys the timing of this thing! Why the hell was he so close?" Stark yelled as he joined the search.
"They kept trying to spread out! He had to stay close to keep them back!" Hawkeye yelled back.
Suddenly Black Widow yelled, “Here!” and lunged for a piece of rubble and threw it out of the way. Thor reached over and pulled a big piece off as well, and Cap’s dusty arm was exposed, blood running over his hand from a gash on the palm, combining with the dust to create a thick pool on one of the rocks nearby. “Be careful,” Stark growled, and pulled his glove off and reached for their leader’s wrist, checking his pulse. “Thready. Hawkeye, get over to this side - get that rock,” and Stark gestured to Hawkeye, who had to shake himself out of staring at the dusty, bloody arm in front of him.
Steve, blue eyes sparkling with laughter, leaned back in a kitchen chair and pestered Clint to make a decision about Board Walk or Park Place. Clint growled back to give him a minute, that these were Important Decisions and not to be pushed, and Steve just laughed and took a swig of his beer.
Hawkeye and Stark pushed the piece of rubble aside with a groan and Thor stepped up again and pulled a big piece away.
“Shit,” Stark mumbled and Black Widow put a hand on Clint’s back as she saw him tense.
Clint felt himself move to help clear the Captain from the wreckage, but heard Stark saying, “Wait, Hawkeye. Wait.” And Black Widow’s arm holding him back, and he knew the best thing to do was to let Thor and his quicker strength clear the rocks completely and then assess the situation. He stayed still for a moment and watched.
“What the hell are these?” Clint asked as Steve pulled the cup and discs out of the old, fading box. “Tiddlywinks,” Steve responded. “What?” Steve picked up a disc and pointed to the cup. “You calculate angles to flip the disc into the cup. You miss and you take a drink.” Clint shook his head. “You said you can’t get drunk.” Steve grinned. “Nope, but I bet I can get you drunk in under an hour.” The challenge was met and Steve lost the bet.
As Thor lifted the rocks away, Clint could see the damage with every piece of wreckage moved. Cap was pale, covered in dust, and had blood streaming down the side of his face from a gash across his forehead. His uniform was ripped across his chest, revealing burned flesh and seeping wounds and his breath was coming in short gasps. The arm they’d first revealed, his left arm, was actually bent at an odd angle when they uncovered it completely, and his right arm was cut above the elbow, with blood streaming down his arm. But his right fist was clenching and unclenching and Clint knew he was conscious at least a little.
Carefully, so Thor could get the last few rocks off of Cap’s legs, Clint climbed over the rubble and put his hand on the side of Cap’s face. “Hey, Cap. Can you hear me?” He said, gently.
There was no response, and Natasha just leaned over and unclenched Cap’s fist and put her hand in his, and Cap proceeded to grip and release her hand, over and over again. Clint tried once more. “Cap, come on, wake up.”
Cap’s eyes fluttered and he looked up at Clint. Cap’s eyes were glazed over in pain and Clint watched as he tried to focus but just couldn’t. “Did the weapon work?” he whispered hoarsely as he closed his eyes again, still squeezing Natasha’s hand.
“Yeah, Cap,” Clint said, “It worked.”
“You were too close, Cap,” Stark said, leaning over the wreckage.
‘Sorry,” Cap replied, and then he coughed, squeezing Natasha’s hand again, and she hissed in pain.
“I beat you again,” Natasha laughed as Steve stepped away from the pinball machine. “She’s the wizard,” Clint added. “Yeah, and I just kinda stink at pinball,” Steve said. Clint watched as Natasha leaned into Steve’s shoulder. “Your old games are cool, Cap,” she said. He grinned at her and replied, “We knew how to have fun back then.”
Clint heard the SHIELD helicopter approaching and he leaned back over his Captain. “The medics are here, Cap, just hang on.” He felt his face again and it felt clammy and cold, and Clint felt a shiver run down his own spine. This one was bad. The din from the helicopter covered Cap’s short gasps for air, but Clint could see his grip on Natasha’s hand still squeezing.
The medics climbed out of the copter with a stretcher and carefully lifted the Captain, and Natasha stumbled as Cap didn’t let go of her hand. She extricated her hand from his as they carried him out of the rubble, but he groaned and Clint stepped close. Cap’s eyes were clenched shut, and he was mumbling through his breaths, “Stay. Please. Clint. . .stay.”
Clint ran his hand through Cap’s hair and looked up at the medic. “Can I stay with him?” The medic nodded and Clint looked back at Natasha, who gave him another nod. He climbed onto the helicopter and took Cap’s hand in his, and the squeezing began again, in rhythm. He watched as the medic team assessed the situation, hooking Cap to an IV and stripping his shirt to get a better look at the injuries. Clint closed his eyes when he saw the damage to Cap’s chest, bruising and lacerations from the rubble covering his skin. Then the medics started shouting at each other and Cap’s grip on Clint’s hand went slack.
“Hey,” Cap said, leaning over the hospital bed where Clint was laying, feeling very sore, very tired, and very confused. Of course, Cap looked tired and sore as well, but Clint didn’t have the energy to point that out. He just looked up at his Captain and nodded. Cap ran his hand through Clint’s hair and added with a grin, “Next time, duck.” Clint nodded again and replied weakly, “You, too.” And Cap laughed and then sat with him the whole time until the docs said he could go home to Stark Tower.
Clint sat close to the Captain’s bed and refused to leave, letting Natasha and the others bring him coffee and some food, despite the doctor’s assurances that Steve was going to pull through and Stark’s assurances that Captain America did have accelerated healing abilities. It was hours after the surgery that Cap’s hand squeezed Clint’s again, and his eyes fluttered open.
“Hey, Cap,” Clint said quietly. “About time you woke up.”
Cap mumbled something in response that Clint couldn’t hear, so he leaned over close. “What?” he asked.
Cap replied weakly, but with a small smile playing across his face and a spark in his blue eyes that Clint thought they might have lost, “I forgot to duck again.”
And Clint just grinned and replied, “It’s okay, old man. One of these days you’ll learn.”
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Author: Harkpad
Rating: PG (violence)
Words: 1519
Warnings: None
Pairings: None
Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Rest of the Team
Summary: Hawkeye watches as a test of a new weapon goes awry for Captain America, and Clint's growing friendship with Steve bleeds through as he wonders if Cap can pull through this time. Friendship Fic.
Cross Posted.
Hawkeye had a good vantage point above the street where the rest of the team was fighting Doom's soldiers, who were attacking City Hall and trying to take out the Avengers that day. There were at least a hundred of them, and Hawkeye was reloading as fast as anyone could. He was also trying to keep an eye on his teammates, and was, therefore, watching when the explosion from the edge of the ranks of enemy soldiers sent Captain America careening into the side of the building and the wall of the building came crumbling down around him.
Hawkeye couldn't do anything. He had to keep unloading arrows into the ranks, and hope that the new weapon Iron Man had invented worked. They were trying a new strategy today, trying to keep the enemy bunched together so that the chain reactor weapon could be tested on a real foe.
It did work, but Iron Man had been a minute late in deploying it. Once it went off, though, the enemy was wiped up in less than five minutes.
That meant it was six minutes too late in Hawkeye's mind.
“Sit here,” Cap said as he led Clint to the couch. “I’ll get you a drink.” Clint sat and put his head in his hands. He’d spent an afternoon in an air duct after a meeting with Fury went bad and Clint had lost his shit in front of everyone because Fury was being an asshole. Cap sat at the air duct exit with a book for two hours until Clint finally acquiesced to come down and let Cap take him back to the Tower to get over it.
He scrambled down from his perch, bowstring taut with an arrow waiting for any surprises. Thor and Black Widow were already standing amidst the rubble, trying to clear it away and find the Captain. Just as Hawkeye landed from his jump to the ground, Iron Man landed nearby and threw his face plate up.
"Goddamit! I told you guys the timing of this thing! Why the hell was he so close?" Stark yelled as he joined the search.
"They kept trying to spread out! He had to stay close to keep them back!" Hawkeye yelled back.
Suddenly Black Widow yelled, “Here!” and lunged for a piece of rubble and threw it out of the way. Thor reached over and pulled a big piece off as well, and Cap’s dusty arm was exposed, blood running over his hand from a gash on the palm, combining with the dust to create a thick pool on one of the rocks nearby. “Be careful,” Stark growled, and pulled his glove off and reached for their leader’s wrist, checking his pulse. “Thready. Hawkeye, get over to this side - get that rock,” and Stark gestured to Hawkeye, who had to shake himself out of staring at the dusty, bloody arm in front of him.
Steve, blue eyes sparkling with laughter, leaned back in a kitchen chair and pestered Clint to make a decision about Board Walk or Park Place. Clint growled back to give him a minute, that these were Important Decisions and not to be pushed, and Steve just laughed and took a swig of his beer.
Hawkeye and Stark pushed the piece of rubble aside with a groan and Thor stepped up again and pulled a big piece away.
“Shit,” Stark mumbled and Black Widow put a hand on Clint’s back as she saw him tense.
Clint felt himself move to help clear the Captain from the wreckage, but heard Stark saying, “Wait, Hawkeye. Wait.” And Black Widow’s arm holding him back, and he knew the best thing to do was to let Thor and his quicker strength clear the rocks completely and then assess the situation. He stayed still for a moment and watched.
“What the hell are these?” Clint asked as Steve pulled the cup and discs out of the old, fading box. “Tiddlywinks,” Steve responded. “What?” Steve picked up a disc and pointed to the cup. “You calculate angles to flip the disc into the cup. You miss and you take a drink.” Clint shook his head. “You said you can’t get drunk.” Steve grinned. “Nope, but I bet I can get you drunk in under an hour.” The challenge was met and Steve lost the bet.
As Thor lifted the rocks away, Clint could see the damage with every piece of wreckage moved. Cap was pale, covered in dust, and had blood streaming down the side of his face from a gash across his forehead. His uniform was ripped across his chest, revealing burned flesh and seeping wounds and his breath was coming in short gasps. The arm they’d first revealed, his left arm, was actually bent at an odd angle when they uncovered it completely, and his right arm was cut above the elbow, with blood streaming down his arm. But his right fist was clenching and unclenching and Clint knew he was conscious at least a little.
Carefully, so Thor could get the last few rocks off of Cap’s legs, Clint climbed over the rubble and put his hand on the side of Cap’s face. “Hey, Cap. Can you hear me?” He said, gently.
There was no response, and Natasha just leaned over and unclenched Cap’s fist and put her hand in his, and Cap proceeded to grip and release her hand, over and over again. Clint tried once more. “Cap, come on, wake up.”
Cap’s eyes fluttered and he looked up at Clint. Cap’s eyes were glazed over in pain and Clint watched as he tried to focus but just couldn’t. “Did the weapon work?” he whispered hoarsely as he closed his eyes again, still squeezing Natasha’s hand.
“Yeah, Cap,” Clint said, “It worked.”
“You were too close, Cap,” Stark said, leaning over the wreckage.
‘Sorry,” Cap replied, and then he coughed, squeezing Natasha’s hand again, and she hissed in pain.
“I beat you again,” Natasha laughed as Steve stepped away from the pinball machine. “She’s the wizard,” Clint added. “Yeah, and I just kinda stink at pinball,” Steve said. Clint watched as Natasha leaned into Steve’s shoulder. “Your old games are cool, Cap,” she said. He grinned at her and replied, “We knew how to have fun back then.”
Clint heard the SHIELD helicopter approaching and he leaned back over his Captain. “The medics are here, Cap, just hang on.” He felt his face again and it felt clammy and cold, and Clint felt a shiver run down his own spine. This one was bad. The din from the helicopter covered Cap’s short gasps for air, but Clint could see his grip on Natasha’s hand still squeezing.
The medics climbed out of the copter with a stretcher and carefully lifted the Captain, and Natasha stumbled as Cap didn’t let go of her hand. She extricated her hand from his as they carried him out of the rubble, but he groaned and Clint stepped close. Cap’s eyes were clenched shut, and he was mumbling through his breaths, “Stay. Please. Clint. . .stay.”
Clint ran his hand through Cap’s hair and looked up at the medic. “Can I stay with him?” The medic nodded and Clint looked back at Natasha, who gave him another nod. He climbed onto the helicopter and took Cap’s hand in his, and the squeezing began again, in rhythm. He watched as the medic team assessed the situation, hooking Cap to an IV and stripping his shirt to get a better look at the injuries. Clint closed his eyes when he saw the damage to Cap’s chest, bruising and lacerations from the rubble covering his skin. Then the medics started shouting at each other and Cap’s grip on Clint’s hand went slack.
“Hey,” Cap said, leaning over the hospital bed where Clint was laying, feeling very sore, very tired, and very confused. Of course, Cap looked tired and sore as well, but Clint didn’t have the energy to point that out. He just looked up at his Captain and nodded. Cap ran his hand through Clint’s hair and added with a grin, “Next time, duck.” Clint nodded again and replied weakly, “You, too.” And Cap laughed and then sat with him the whole time until the docs said he could go home to Stark Tower.
Clint sat close to the Captain’s bed and refused to leave, letting Natasha and the others bring him coffee and some food, despite the doctor’s assurances that Steve was going to pull through and Stark’s assurances that Captain America did have accelerated healing abilities. It was hours after the surgery that Cap’s hand squeezed Clint’s again, and his eyes fluttered open.
“Hey, Cap,” Clint said quietly. “About time you woke up.”
Cap mumbled something in response that Clint couldn’t hear, so he leaned over close. “What?” he asked.
Cap replied weakly, but with a small smile playing across his face and a spark in his blue eyes that Clint thought they might have lost, “I forgot to duck again.”
And Clint just grinned and replied, “It’s okay, old man. One of these days you’ll learn.”
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