A/N: Heh, sooooo, after some requests and a lot of hard thinking I decided to give this story a second chapter. (grins) BUT, before getting to this second half…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your fantastic reviews! This is my first 'Avengers' fic so your response felt FANTASTIC.

Awkay, because stalling isn't kind… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

To anyone watching they looked like a very amusing bunch.

Two dark haired men sitting there in their sweatpants and hoodies with comically grim expressions, like a pair of school kids expecting to be called to their principal's office for an earfull. Another man, still wearing his red, blue and white outfit, altered between sitting down and walking around, his fingers never once pausing their nervous jerks. The tallest man, dressed in a Halloween costume, stood with a frown on his face, occasionally casting impatient, disapproving looks towards the room's door. Yet somehow the only woman of the group appeared the most dangerous of them all even if she just stood there, staring out the window. With the look that lingered on her tense face no one would've dared to approach her. All of them looked like they'd been to hell and back.

Tony saw the comical elements of the situation. He wasn't in the state of mind to appreciate them. He stared at his hands, which he'd already washed thrice. Some flakes of dried blood still remained under his fingernails. The sight made him feel sick to his stomach.

It'd been a chaos at first. At first they hurried to get Clint into a condition where it was safe to move him and then it was a race to get him into proper care before he'd bleed to death. But that was all over nine hours ago. Now, with nothing else to do but think, Tony felt infuriatingly lost. He hated the thinking part. Especially when the only thoughts in his head were of how Clint looked there in the forest and 'how the hell can anyone survive that?'.

When they saw a middle aged, nearly bald hispanic man in scrubs approaching they all stood up like soldiers preparing for a war. This, even though the look on the doctor's face nearly dropped them right back down. They were told that it was uncertain if Clint would survive the night.

Tony felt like Thor's hammer had struck him without his suit shielding him. He fell to his seat like a sag of potatoes. A numb, gnawing ache spread through his whole body.

None of it made any sense.

Tony had no idea how long passed until the sounds of sharp steps snapped him out of the mental hurricane. His head rose just in time for him to see Natasha storm out of the room. None of them dared to ask where she was going. When she came back an hour and a half later the skin on her knuckles was broken and bloodied. The heartbreaking, haunted look in her eyes told that whatever she'd done it wasn't enough.

It took the medical team eighteen hours to get Clint stable enough to be allowed visitors. During those endless hours they lost the archer three times. But in the end the stubborn bastard was strong enough to beat the odds stacked against him.

Natasha shook her head as she stared at the heavily unconscious form of her friend, unwilling to look at the machine that helped the most hard-headed man she'd ever met breathe. She didn't like the way her eyes stung. "You've gotta stop doing this", she demanded in a harsh, steel hard tone. Anger was safe because if she'd let go of that for even a second, if she'd surrender to the panic that was swelling in the pit of her knotted stomach… "Jumping off buildings… Getting yourself shot… Bleeding out on me… When you don't look half dead I'll punch you for making me wait around by your hospital bed again."

Clint didn't respond. Of course she'd known to expect as much but that didn't lessen the blow of the disappointment. The archer remained terrifyingly pale and eerily still.

The ability to remain perfectly still is essential for a sniper but this, Natasha decided, was ridiculous.

Natasha wiped her eyes with the hand that wasn't holding Clint's and didn't know what to make of the droplets of moisture left on her fingertips. She gritted her teeth and tightened her hold on her friend's hand. His forced stillness was a horrible mirror to the tremble that was slowly yet steadily taking over her whole body.

She was good at action, it was what she'd been trained for, but this waiting…

Her jaw tightened right along with her grip. "You're not allowed to check out on me yet, Clint", she announced, her voice full of pure steel. One of her fingers slipped to his pulse point. It was still there, steady even if not quite as strong as she would've liked. She stared at his rising and falling chest, anchored herself on the evidence of continuing life. "I… There's still so much debt that I have to repay." Enough for several lifetimes. "You're not allowed to check out until I've repaid it all. Do you understand?"

She didn't know how much longer passed until her senses, sharpened by years upon years in her line of job, warned her that she wasn't alone. She turned her head to see Bruce stood by the room's doorway. They acknowledged each other with brief nods until Bruce entered, his eyes scanning through the machinery monitoring Clint's vitals. The lines on the doctor's forehead deepened and, most likely subconsciously, one hand grabbed the archer's bed railing and held on almost convulsively.

Most people would've offered pathetic 'Don't worries' and 'He'll be alrights'. Not Bruce. He cared, that was loud and clear on his exhausted face that held several worry lines. But he was the kind of a man who didn't waste his breath on empty nothings. Perhaps that was why his company made her relax, even if only a little bit.

"What happened to the one visitor at a time rule?" she questioned.

Bruce shrugged while finally taking a seat. Although he tried to smile his eyes seemed a decade older than a couple of days ago. "Do you really think that they'd dare to piss off the big guy with trying to remove me?"

It wasn't funny at all, not really. But Natasha smiled nonetheless. Even if it was only because of the relief over having something else to think about than the fact that the hand in hers couldn't squeeze back anymore.

And so they sat in a companionable silence, watching how Clint's heartbeat blinked on the monitor's screen. Drawing whatever little comfort they could from each other as they continued their grim post. Both knowing and, bottling up their frustrated rage, accepting that for now it was all they could do.

Little by little the room began to get packed up. Surprisingly it was Tony who caved in first, muttering something about Pepper having kicked him out after he'd been pacing around and snapping at everyone like a lost and injured puppy. ("Her words, not mine.") Thor marched in about half an hour later, taking a spot in the room's corner like its very own security guard. It was almost amusing how lost the frowning Asgardian looked, there. Steve was the last to enter and everything about his features screamed that he'd had a very unpleasant and long talk with Fury. None of them asked further.

So the wait continued with their whole, bizarre team keeping an eye on their fallen one. For some reason Natasha found it a little easier to breathe than before. She sighed and focused her attention on Clint's limp hand, her thumb beginning to rub circles on it.

I know that you'd hate all this attention, she mused. You want them to stop hovering? Then you'd better wake the hell up and kick them out because I'm not going to.

The first time Clint woke up he was still so out of it that nothing made much sense to him. He did know that the room was dark and for a moment adrenaline spiked up until Tony's familiar voice spoke. "Ah, he awakens. Are you finally done with the beauty sleep?"

Drowsy and confused, Clint blinked twice and turned his head just enough to see Tony occupying the chair beside his bed. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days and the sight brought a frown to the archer's face. "Wah…?"

"You've been out for a while after a pretty messy surgery. Tossing yourself off a building and getting shot does that to a person." Tony's forced light tone wasn't enough to disguise the worry. The man took a plastic mug and slipped a straw between Hawkeye's teeth. "Take a couple of sips but nice and slow, yeah? Romanoff will have my head if I let you make yourself sick."

Gratefully Clint took a few mouth fulls, savouring each and every single one of them although they made his throat feel like it'd been set on fire. He couldn't remember the last time his mouth would've felt as dry. It was ridiculous how tired and winded the simple action of swallowing made him.

Clint sighed, letting go of the straw and sinking heavily against the bed. "Thanks", he murmured in a voice he couldn't quite recognize. His eyes were starting to droop. "For the water. And the catch." Almost full sentences. How about that.

Clearly seeing that he was an inch from dozing off already Tony put the mug away. "I couldn't exactly let you plummet to the pavement with a bullet in your chest. Just… Try not to do that again."

Clint chuckled and regretted it instantly. The sound that erupted was awful. The pain that exploded in his chest was a thousand times worse. He bit back a groan. "Which? Get shot or fall?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Preferably both. Because between the two of us, I like you better in one piece." There was a moment's pause, during which the archer almost drifted off without hearing the final words. "Featherhead."

Clint attempted to produce a comeback but it was getting harder and harder to focus. Managing to get a hold his scattered thoughts was a real struggle. "The others?"

"Some cuts and bruises but you're the only one who needed to be carried out of that mess." Tony stretched and, with his eyes closed, Clint heard him stiffle a yawn. "Just sleep. Maybe you'll be more fun when you wake up again." Obviously seeing him struggle the Iron Man went on. "Stop worrying for a second. I'll keep watch."

Clint wasn't really in the condition to object to that. And so, cocooned by the knowledge that everyone was alright and he was safe, he allowed himself to drift off. If it was anyone else guarding his sleep he could've sworn that he felt a hand in his.

When Clint woke up again his head was far more clear. And the room was far more populated. He blinked several times and shivered at the sight that met him.

The whole team was there. Natasha was sitting right beside his bed, so that she had a clear view to the room's door like she always preferred. This time he could be sure that someone was holding his hand because the hold was hers. Thor stood by the room's window, staring out with such intense focus that the Asgardian clearly had no idea that he was awake. Based on his ruffled hair and the coffee stains on his shirts Bruce had fought a brave battle but eventually the man had fallen asleep on the chair placed nearby the foot-end of Clint's bed. The doctor's neck was bent to such a position that it was bound to be sore. The room's door was ajar and the archer could see Tony and Steve outside, absorbed by the millionaire's cell phone. Whatever the Iron Man was showing had brought a close to mortified look to Steve's face.

They all appeared exhausted and Clint hated the almost certain knowledge that it was because of him. But they were together. Just like they worked together throughout their mission.

They had a absolutely horrible start, one that Clint whole heartedly wanted to avoid remembering. But now, after a lot of trial and error, they were a team. A real, proper, more or less well functioning team. One to which he belonged.

Even though Clint was used to fighting alone that thought, the sense of belonging and having people looking out for him, felt almost terrifyingly good. Enough so to lead him right back to deep, fully relaxed sleep. There was nothing to worry about and he knew that none of his usual nightmares would bother him.

His team would look out for him until he could be their eyes from the sky once more.

End.

A/N: Awww, they're such great team! And Clint's getting better. It'll take time but he'll get there.

Soooo… Any good, at all? PLEASE, do let me know! It'd be fantastic to hear from you.

Take care! And who knows. Maybe I'll see you again one day.

severinas.96: I'm THRILLED to hear that you enjoyed it so much! (BEAMS) Clint and Tony are just too cute, right? (grins)

Nope, sure wasn't the last. We'll see just what I cme up with next…

Massive thank yous for the review!