"Gonna need a catch,"Clint muttered over coms.

"Really?" Tony complained.

Natasha hissed something in Russian.

"I'm on my way," Tony sighed. "Where are you?"

"In about two seconds a building is going to come down. I'm on it."

The rumbling began just after that.

Tony swore, and shot off to pick up the dark blur that was indeed beginning to tumble off the collapsing building.

"Bit more warning would be nice next time," Tony hissed, dodging debris.

His dodging wasn't entirely successful, because he took a chunk of concrete to the head. It disorientated him for a second, but thanks to the suit, didn't knock him out or send him off course, which was good because Clint was still falling.

But Jarvis wasn't in his ear anymore, which meant the collision had damaged something, even if it wasn't him. He couldn't be bothered with it at the moment, because Clint.

Tony snatched him out of midair, but not before part of a steel beam glanced off his head. It wasn't a direct hit, which was good, because it would have shattered his skull. A small piece of concrete bounced off his chest just before Tony reached him, and he was thankful for updating Clint's body armour the previous week, because otherwise it could have been much worse.

Still, he wasn't conscious or responsive, and Tony couldn't get vitals on him without Jarvis.

"Hawkeye's got a head wound," Tony announced, looping around back to where the rest of the team was. "And Jarvis is down. The suit took some debris, and must have knocked him offline. I'm coming down so you can check on him, and we should probably get medical out here. Has Thor taken care of the last one?"

"Aye," Thor boomed, a crack echoing through the air as his hammer collided with the last stone creature. "I will be there to assist."

Tony landed, a little bumpily without the assistance of Jarvis and his palm thrusters, Hawkeye still unconscious in his arms. He set Clint down carefully on a clear spot of pavement. Natasha was immediately at his side, and Steve came jogging up behind her.

Hulk lumbered up behind them, followed closely by Thor, who was covered with dust and small bits of rubble.

Natasha was at his head, clutching at his wrist for a pulse, watching his chest for rising and falling breaths. "Shit," she said quietly. "He doesn't have a pulse, and he's not breathing."

They all collectively froze, which was not at all helpful.

Steve recovered first, and began CPR, compressing Clint's chest with care so as not to crush his ribs more than was needed.

Tony turned to Hulk. Because the battle was over, and Hulk was no longer the one they needed. Now it was Bruce who was needed.

"Hulk," Tony said gently, "We need Bruce. Please. For Clint."

"Bird man?" Hulk whispered, looking distraught.

Natasha nodded.

Hulk looked thoughtful, but began shrinking, changing, paling.

Then there was Bruce, trembling, exhausted, and naked, but alert.

"Bruce, Clint's heart stopped." Tony told him, fast and urgent. "We're doing CPR, but we need to shock him."

"Wh's his rhythm?" Bruce mumbled.

Tony stared, wide eyed at him. "What?" he gasped.

"V-tach? V-fib? Asystole?" Bruce's words were clearer now.

"Bruce, how the hell should I know? Jarvis is offline. I can rig up a shock for him, but I need to know how much."

"200 joules."

Tony manually set up the charge, and waited for Steve to finish his round of compressions. (Tony was so thankful for the first aid and CPR courses they'd all been forced to take.) Natasha felt for a pulse.

"No change," she told them, her face grim and set.

"Shock him," Bruce told Tony wearily.

Tony placed his hands on Clint's chest, at the positions Bruce indicated. Thor had managed to get his vest undone around the compressions, which was impressive.

"Everyone get clear," Tony ordered. He glanced around, satisfied that no one else was touching Clint, and then discharged the shock.

Clint's body arched under Tony's hands, and as soon as he slumped back into his previous position Steve started compressions again.

"We can shock him again," Bruce muttered, his eyelids drooping. "If that didn't work."

"Okay. Stay with me Bruce, we need you," Tony pleaded.

Bruce nodded, his eyes closed for a moment. He opened them again, looking slightly more alert. "300 joules this time. Are the SHIELD medics on the way?"

Natasha nodded. "Should be here any time now."

Tony worried that Bruce was going to fall asleep in the agonizingly long moments before Steve finished his sets of compressions.

Natasha felt for a pulse, one hand at Clint's wrist, the other at his neck, in hopes that one of them would be present. She shook her head.

Tony swallowed, but got to his knees and crouched over Clint again.

"Clear," Tony said loudly, making sure everyone was away from Clint. The last thing they needed was for someone else to get shocked. They only had a few people who were capable of doing CPR at the moment, and couldn't handle two people without pulses. God, that would be a nightmare.

Clint jerked again, then relaxed. It was unnerving to see him, or anyone, like that. It was like the time that Jane's intern, Darcy something or other, had a seizure. It was a whole new level of not being in control of your body, something that all of them knew too well.

"Commotio cordis," Bruce muttered, while Steve began the next round of compressions. "A blow to the heart during a short part of the heartbeat cycle. It can cause cardiac arrest."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, hoping the panic wasn't evident in his voice.

Bruce shook his head. "But it's most likely. You noticed pretty much straight away that he didn't have a pulse?"

Tony froze. "Not soon enough," he whispered. "Jarvis is down." He hadn't even been the one to feel for a pulse. That had been Natasha as soon as she got to his side.

"You did fine," Natasha said. "You caught him."

She was at Clint's head, doing the breaths when Steve indicated for her to.

Steve finished his set of five compressions, and Natasha felt for a pulse again.

She nearly sagged with relief. "He has a pulse,"she sighed. "Not breathing, but he has a pulse."

The SHIELD medics appeared then, as Natasha continued breathing for Clint, Steve with one hand monitoring the pulse in Clint's neck.

Bruce gave them a quick summary of what had happened, and they gently moved Natasha and Steve aside to get to their patient.

Bruce sagged then, his energy reserves completely spent.

"I'm gonna sleep now," he sighed.

Thor scooped Bruce into his arms, and the man barely stirred.

"I have you," he rumbled.

Now that Steve's focus had been removed, he turned his attention to Tony.

"Are you okay?" he asked, scrutinizing him. "I saw you hit your head, which must be the reason Jarvis is out."

Tony waved a hand. "I'm fine. My heart is beating, and I'm breathing on my own, so I'm good."

He stared at Clint, who was being intubated by the medics, apparently still not breathing.

But his heart was still beating, and that was enough.

Steve didn't quite drop the subject, but he nodded, and let it be for a moment. He did stand a bit too close to Tony, maybe in case he fell over, which was laughable. He was in the suit after all. He wasn't just going to topple over.

Okay, well except for the one time. But really. Once.

The medics knew better than to argue with the Avengers, and they all piled in the small quinjet that they had brought.

One of the medics continued breathing for Clint the entire flight to the helicarrier. It wasn't as intimate as Natasha's, but it was still painfully obvious.

Tony knew all too well that breathing was an important thing.

"Don't worry about him not breathing," Bruce whispered.

Tony startled. "I thought you were asleep."

Bruce hummed. "Sort of."

He didn't provide any more information, and Tony moved on to what his main point was.

"Why not?"

"They would have given him drugs to paralyze him to intubate him. They'll wear off, but not for a while."

Natasha perked up slightly at that, and Tony realized Bruce's explanation wasn't just for his benefit. Natasha was probably the one who was closest to Clint, and she'd been holding it together until now, but Bruce must have noticed that she was nearing the end of her frayed rope.

She relaxed minutely.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Steve asked, relief evident in his face as well. "Natasha, are you alright?"

She nodded. "Bruises only."

Steve turned his attention back to Tony.

"Tony?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, daring him to protest.

Tony slouched. God, he was tired. Stress was exhausting. Give him monsters any day of the week, but just don't give him injured teammates.

He shrugged. "I'm fine," he sighed. "Jarvis, not so much, but I can fix that."

"Take the suit off," he said quietly, and the way he said it managed to sound like it wasn't an order, even if it was.

Tony sighed, but obeyed. It wasn't easy to get the armour off without the help of his bots, but it was doable, especially when there was a demi-god with an enormous hammer to help. (And no, it wasn't a euphemism.)

Feeling suddenly naked, Tony stood there while Steve checked him over, his fingers pausing to prod at his head, and Tony couldn't help but flinch.

"I'm fine," he protested, before Steve could even open his mouth. He looked pointedly over Steve's shoulder to where Clint was laying, and god, just the look of him made his heart sink, even if he was doing mostly okay now.

Steve softened. "Okay. But you're still getting checked over. Later."

Tony nodded, and ignored the way the quinjet spun a little bit.

What Steve didn't know couldn't hurt him.