Ghost - An Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 5

Clint sat alone in his room. The mirror in front of him showed the dark purple bruises that marked his torso and arms - reminders of what had happened only a few hours before.

Clint sighed as he remembered the events of that night. After Clint and Larson had loaded the two unconscious agents and the girl onto the Quinjet, the medical officer, a middle aged woman with sharp eyes and short black hair, had hurried about tending to them all. She had been shocked when Clint had carried the bloodied girl on board, then she became somewhat angry. Clint guessed her anger was due to some motherly instinct the woman had, and he agreed that breaking a bottle over a kid's face wasn't ideal, but in his defence he hadn't known the Ghost Thief was a girl. Clint kept his mouth shut, and the medical officer kept shooting him dirty looks as she fussed over the young girl.

"I can't do anything for her. We have to wait until we get back to the Helicarrier. She'll need emergency treatment." the medical officer stated accusingly. Clint frowned.

"Surely you can stop the bleeding?"

The woman shook her head. "If I remove the shards of glass, she'll just bleed out completely, but if I try to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, there is a high risk of pushing the glass in further and causing even more damage." She was carefully trying to wipe the blood off of the girl's face, but she stopped and turned to face Clint, her eyes burning with anger. "What kind of agent uses this amount of force on a young girl? We'll be lucky if she doesn't bleed to death in the next half hour! Even if we do save her, she'll probably be disfigured for life!" The medical officer finished her angry rant and glared at Clint, her eyes challenging him to justify his actions. Yep, definitely motherly instinct Clint thought bitterly. He glared back at the small woman, his steely blue eyes making her falter slightly

"I don't know if you've forgotten, but this mission was about apprehending the Ghost Thief. This girl is a threat. You seem to be ignoring the fact that she took down three agents, two of which are still unconscious, and who you have been neglecting. Do your job and tend to the agents." Clint replied icily, his gaze never leaving the woman's eyes. She sighed and ran a shaking hand through her hair, her eyes flicking down to the unconscious girl. She nodded slowly, her hand dropping from her hair to hang limply by her side.

"Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't drown on her own blood." Clint nodded to the medical officer, who turned and started tending to Hartwig and Jones, who were just coming out of unconsciousness.

After they landed on the Helicarrier, Clint carried the girl over the tarmac and inside, where he was met by a team of doctors and nurses. The girl was taken from his arms and placed on a hospital trolley, and Clint watched as she disappeared down a hallway with the small army of nurses and doctors pushing her. He could hear the words 'massive blood loss,' 'transfusion,' surgery prep' and 'facial lacerations' being thrown about as the group disappeared around a corner. Clint had made his way down to the Medical Unit, where he was checked over for injuries. Clint had smirked as he watched Larson acting tough in front of the pretty blonde nurse who was tending to his broken nose, and his smirk grew wider after Larson yelped like a girl when the blonde nurse set his nose back into place.

One of the doctors informed Clint that the girl would be in surgery for at least six to eight hours, depending on how much blood the girl had lost. That was almost four hours ago. Clint had submitted a brief report to Director Fury in Washington then went to his room, showered and went to bed. It was early in the morning, still before dawn, and Clint had wanted to get an hour of sleep before the girl came out of surgery. He had just gotten up and was examining the dark purple bruises that had started to creep across his skin.

Clint was interrupted from his thoughts by a knock on the door. He grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head, and stood. Before he could open the door, the knock came again, somehow sounding frantic. Clint opened the door to see Larson with his fist raised, about to knock again. His nose was swollen, but other than that, Larson looked physically fine. However, his agitated glances and fidgeting showed Clint how anxious the young agent was.

"Agent Barton, sir, I need you to come with me. It's the Ghost Thief, sir. She's awake."