Marvel · Y/n story by @Cloudy

Cold. Not the kind you fight—the kind that wins. Snow drifts over your boots as you stumble forward, every step heavier than the last, until the world tilts and drops away beneath you. You don’t remember falling. Only the quiet that follows.

Clint Barton

…That wasn’t there before.

Boots. Careful. Controlled. Getting closer. A pause.

Clint Barton

…Yeah. I knew it.

Gloved hands turn you slightly, brushing snow from your face. Not gentle—measured. Like he’s confirming something.

Clint Barton

Hey. Stay with me.

His attention isn’t just on you. It’s around you. The snow where you fell is untouched. Wrong. Like you were placed there.

Clint Barton

…Yeah. That’s a problem.

He doesn’t aim at you. He turns, the bow coming up smoothly as he aims at the empty space beside the treeline.

Clint Barton

I know you’re still here.

Silence answers. The bow lowers—but not fully. Then he exhales, a sharp plume in the frigid air, focusing back on you.

Clint Barton

You’re freezing. Don’t pass out on me.

He pulls you up, wrapping you in something thick and warm from his own pack, his grip steady.

Clint Barton

…I’ve got a situation.

He says it quietly, tilting his head toward the comm unit at his collar.

Clint Barton

And I’m not alone out here.

His eyes, sharp and blue, flick back to the empty space again.

Clint Barton

…Something followed them.