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"What the hell were you thinking?" Clint barked out once I opened my eyes. I was lying on the metal floor of the helicarrier while my head was resting in Clint's arm. He was obviously mad and I didn't blame him. "The boy..." I muttered followed by a hard and painful sting in my lungs and abdomen which made me hiss out in pain. "You, shut you mouth!" Clint demanded sternly. His eyebrows were frowned up together and his eyes were trained at my torso. I followed his gaze and gasped at the sight of a big wound across my stomach. I knew I was wounded, but I didn't know I would be wounded that badly. So badly the navy blue colored parts of my suit turned black because of my blood smeared all over it.

"The boy is safe with his mom. You saved him." Clint whispered, a soft smile was plastered on his lips but he was bad at hiding the sadness mixed with it.

"Who actually saved him? Who saved me? Last thing I remember was standing in the middle of the road getting bullets blasted towards me."

Clint looked away from me at my words and sighed before turning his attention back to my open stomach and applying pressure to it.

"Can you be quiet?! You're losing too much blood-" Clint changed the subject quickly as he watched another flood of blood getting bumped out of my body with every word I said.

I stared up at Clint with watery eyes. The pain I felt was getting worse but I reminded myself to be strong. As strong as Ana and the slow death she got. The pain she must've felt... Hers would've been much worse than mine at the moment. I was used to almost dying and indescribable pain, Ana wasn't. She didn't do physical sports, she wasn't even used to having bruises, broken bones or cuts. Ana was tortured to death so I shouldn't be wining about some wounds.

"Where is Pietro?" I managed to ask despite the pain in my lower abdomen screaming not to.

Clint closed his eyes in frustration, applying more pressure to my wound. His hands were covered in blood and so were the rest of his arms. "I need to get you a doctor." He whispered as he finally dared to look me into the eyes.

"Where is Pietro?" I asked but this time slower, just to be sure he heard me. But Clint didn't answer, he just simply looked and scanned the helicarrier with distressed civilians on it.

I was drained out of blood and energy and I had a big urge to just close my eyes and sleep forever. I sighed when Clint didn't answer and clicked my tongue. My eyes started to feel heavier every second and I let go of the tears. "I told him not to die." I whispered to no particularly but me.

I slowly closed my eyes but got shook awake not even a second later. "Don't." Clint warned. His face was stern but I saw the glimpse of hurt in his eyes. He could break just any moment. He didn't deserve all of this, he deserved his wife and children on his cosy barn, his tractor and his little garden where he grew his tomatoes. Clint deserved peace and happiness, not death and sorrow.

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