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“Did you know,” Clint had to pause to catch his breath. “Did you know that this is where Phil and I met?”

Natasha made a noise to acknowledge what he’d said.

“Yeah,” Clint coughed, phlegm mixed with a little bit of blood. “I was sitting at the bar, doing my own thing, and this dude in a suit just comes up to me and asks if I was ‘The Amazing Hawkeye’,” he coughs again, bringing more blood up this time. “You know, in his absolutely deadpan way. I hadn’t been with the circus for about five years at this point, so I had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

“But he was cute, and I thought I might have a chance, you know, like the idiot I am, so I just went along with him. Halfway through our first mission, the one where he ended up shooting me in the leg, I realize, ‘This isn’t just a really shitty first date, this is a job interview.’

“So I freak, try to leave, and he shoots me, halfway through this fucking mission. But me, the asshole and idiot I am, I find this ridiculously hot, so…” he starts coughing again.

“Clint,” Nat said, voice drier than he’d ever heard it. “You are literally coughing up your lungs because you are pinned under this bar, is now really the time to be recounting your love story to me?”

“Nat,” Clint coughs for nearly a whole minute. “I’m not getting out of here, let a dying man have this.”

“You’re not going to die, Clint,” Natasha said harshly. “You are not allowed, not in a dive like this.”

“I don’t think that’s your call, Nat,” Clint said with a laugh.

“This time it is,” Natasha finds the thing she’d been looking for to use as a lever. “Stay still.”

Clint hopes he does as he’s told, but he can’t tell, because he passes out almost as soon as Nat starts lifting the bartop off of him.