Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

That Was Close (Sam Wilson x reader)

You didn't remember it being this cold when the mission started; it was such a striking change in temperature that it woke you from unconsciousness in violent shakes throughout your body that made your teeth chatter. You had been knocked out when the building crumbled around you, but you had no idea for how long you had been down, and when you opened your eyes to see where you had landed, everything around you was black and silent.

"Clint?" you gurgled, the taste of your own blood filling your mouth, muffling your voice even more so than what the pain in your throat had already done. You turned your head to spit it away, but even the smallest movement sent a searing pain down your spine that radiated out to the rest of your body with a jolt, forcing you to stay still. "Clint," you tried again, "are you there? Please tell me you're there."

Nothing.

"Great...I'm so dead," you muttered in defeat, starting to accept your fate. You gave it your best effort to gather your mind to think beyond the pain and shock building within you, trying to focus on the memory of Sam's face or his voice, or anything that would help to keep you calm, but blood began to pool again in your mouth; you couldn't move to get rid of it, forcing you to swallow heavily before you could choke on the metallic taste. "God, that's awful."

"(Y/N)?!"

"Yep...here come the hallucinations..." you whispered to yourself, "...didn't take long. Hope they're good ones..."

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" came the voice again, this time powerful enough to snap you back to reality.

"Clint?" you perked up just slightly, forgetting that moving was a terrible idea with a pained scream that escaped your throat loudly enough for your teammate to hear you. Your second mistake was holding your breath under the torment, waiting for the pain to abate; when it didn't, the lack of oxygen was robbing you of your senses and your head began to spin, or maybe it was the blood loss, you didn't really know or care. No matter what the cause, you never had the chance to see your friend's face as he looked at you with immense relief when he moved enough of the debris away to find you; you also missed the look of terror when he couldn't find any sign of life once he held you next to him, sprinting towards help as fast as his legs could carry him.

~~~

"I'm sorry that I wasn't faster," Clint sighed, leaning against the infirmary window with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and eyes closed. He had been torturing himself with the replay of events in his mind over and over since he had reached the compound with you, and now that he was standing in front of your boyfriend and waiting for his judgement, Clint was certain that his own self-punishment was nothing compared to what this guy would bring him. "But she'll wake up, Sam. Doc said that once they get some blood back into her, she'll come around."

"Yeah," Sam whispered, his stare never wavering from you, "she'll be good. Thanks for getting her home, Clint."

"Hey, you should know that she saved fourteen kids before the building fell. You'd have been proud."

"You saying I'm not?"

"No," Clint backpedaled immediately, his eyes opening wide as his posture straightened and his hands came up in front of him defensively, "no, never! I was just letting you know what happened, that's all. She didn't hesitate for a second."

"Right, but that might be the problem," he replied flatly. He perked up when Bruce crossed the room towards him and opened the door silently, holding his hand out to offer Sam entry to see you. He had been waiting for hours to get this chance, but now that it was before him, he began to feel apprehensive and a little scared as to what he was going to see. "Thanks again, Clint," he offered before turning to the doctor. "So, let's have it."