Head in the Clouds
It was hard to process that they were so high above everyone. Sometimes, they even seemed close enough to touch. Clint wondered vaguely what they actually felt like. He was positive that, if they could be touched, they would be soft…. Like a pillow, or a feather. Would they be sticky, too?
“Clint—!”
Would they be sticky like candy? Perhaps thick like cotton? Or both, like cotton candy? As Clint gazed upwards into the sky, he realized that he may never have known. He barely had enough energy to breathe, there was no way he could muster up enough energy to even move at this point.
He didn’t mind, though. The view was good enough for him. It was beautiful. The sky was lit up in a brilliant blue color and the clouds were white and fluffy. They weren’t gray, and they weren’t streaks today. They were all shaped differently, too… they were poofy...
If Clint focused enough on one cloud, he could vaguely decipher a pig. There was its snout…. it eye was right there…. and there was its tail!
“—Answer—“
The clouds took his breath away. Literally. Each second that passed by, it was getting harder and harder to take in a full breath. God, they really were breathtaking….
Clint wondered what it would be like to be a bird. To fly all day without a care in the world, to feel the wind in his hair…. it would’ve been wonderful to be a bird instead of a human man…
Blissfully, Clint shut his eyes. Being a bird would be nice… to be free… away from all of this— right as Clint was about to relax even further, the feeling of falling suddenly came over him and his eyes popped open again at the sudden change.
However, the burst of energy didn’t last long, and his eyelids were soon growing heavy again.
God… everything was so fuzzy.. he was so tired… could he just take a nap here? What would be so wrong with that? Who would be here to yell at him? The clouds? Yeah, right…
This time, Clint eased into the relaxation slowly. His eyelids slowly fluttered closed and he sank happily into the peace… that was, until a voice suddenly jerked him out of bliss.
“...Found him…”
Clint blinked open his eyes, frowning unhappily at a tall, dark figure leaning over him.
The unfamiliar figure leaned in closer and, once his vision finally decided to focus, Clint realized that they weren’t unfamiliar at all! No, he knew that face anywhere! It was Steve Rogers!
“Are you alright, Clint? God, what happened?”
At the question, noises began ringing in Clint’s ears as he tried to recall. He vaguely remembered the bright, red lights flashing in his face… and the terrifying feeling as he spiraled… Was that right? Had he been flying?
When Clint tried to remember more, he shuddered uncomfortably. All this focusing was getting quite overwhelming for him, and, as gentle and kind as Steve spoke, he sounded like he was underwater. It was difficult to focus on anything but the clouds that were ever so slowly drifting behind Steve’s head.
He wondered if he could sleep on the clouds… more sleep sounded nice right about now…. Rest… all he wanted to do was rest… he was so tired...
When Steve spoke again, his voice was
soft… and slightly muted. However, Clint couldn’t be sure if it was just his mind playing tricks on him again….
“Does that hurt, Clint?”
There was a slight pressure on Clint’s side
after the Captain’s remark, but by this point, everything seemed numb. Nothing really hurt anymore….
“Clint?”
A warm, gloved hand grabbed his cooler, clammier one and squeezed tightly once.
“Clint, can you squeeze my hand? Just to
let me know that you can still hear me?”
The only acknowledgement that Clint gave
in response was a sluggish blink after he’d briefly met Steve’s eye. He didn’t want to squeeze, he was too tired… His focus was shorthanded, and his gaze didn’t stay on his friend. Soon, it had wandered off ever so slowly to the soft puffs of white in the sky behind Steve’s head.
It wasn’t long before he felt like a cloud
himself. He felt lighter than air as he practically floated with his head, quite literally it seemed, in the clouds. His mind steadily began returning to it’s flying/falling state.
When exhaustion began catching up with
Clint, he welcomed it. It wouldn’t hurt to sleep, right? Sleep is a necessity, wasn’t it? Everyone was always telling each other to go to sleep…
“Clint, no— Eyes open, eyes on me—!”
Another tight, uncomfortable squeeze on
his hand and Clint’s forced his eyes open to groan unhappily. Just let me sleep!
“Eyes on me, Soldier!” Steve’s voice carried a certain sense of worried urgency to it. “Keep your eyes open, you hear?”
Clint was so tired, exhausted. Why did he have to?
“Help is almost here! Help is on its way— eyes here, eyes here!”
Clint’s gaze drifted again, behind Steve’s
stupid head, and back to the only thing really grounded him: the clouds.
The edges of his vision were beginning to darken, but Clint hardly noticed.
He was so focused on the sky…
So blue…
So pretty…
It took his breath away…
It was getting harder to breathe…
“Hurry!”
“We’re almost there!”
Clint’s world faded to black right as
another figure blocked his amazing view of the sky.
The next few hours in Clint’s life happened in bursts.
One time, he was aware of being lifted. It
took him a minute to realize he was being carried. The position he was in made it so hard to breathe, but he passed out before he could comprehend much further.
The next time he awoke, it was to a blinding, crushing pain. It didn’t take him long to realize he couldn’t get a full breath in. And, the commotion around him certainly didn’t help his case at all. In fact, it only succeeded in stressing him out more.
“...Be okay…”
He could tell when his shirt was removed
by the chilling air that soon blasted him in the chest. His arm was lifted next, then a sharp pain pierced his side. He tried to move, to no avail, when he realized his limbs were effectively pinned. After that, though, breathing got easier, and it wasn’t long before he passed out again.
Another time, he was blurrily staring up at
the ceiling and there was a soothing voice humming in his ear. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Natasha. God, she always had such a talent for that kind of stuff…
It was a Russian Lullaby, or at least he
thought it was… it probably was; Natasha knew a lot of Russian music. He fell peacefully back to sleep, lulled by the song.
Clint’s dreams were filled with falling
through the air, then the air being squeezed out of him. They were filled with bright lights and sharp pains. Everything was chaos, it was spiraling down the drain with him, like an upside down tornado. He was scared, worried— everything was moving so fast, the air was against him… but, then, it wasn’t.
Sweet melodies filled his ears— they were
foreign and quite incomprehensible, but they were there. And, they were beautiful. As he listened, the storms died down, the pain was eased, and his mind was soon at peace.
The first time Clint awoke fully, he felt better, but was hazy… not every breath was agony, but it seemed like every breath brought soreness to his bones.
When he blinked open his eyes, he found
himself staring up at a white ceiling. There was a constant, infuriating beeping in his ear, too…
“Hey. Take it easy.”
Clint slowly turned his head to where the voice had come from. “Huh…?”
Steve smiled gently back at him. “You’re in the hospital… you had a pretty nasty fall…”
“I did?” Clint frowned. He didn’t remember
that… he just remembered the clouds. “Ev’ryone okay…? Di’ I crash…? Wait… Wha’ happened?”
“No one was in the jet but you… and… You
tell me what happened,” Steve sounded exhausted. “I found you barely breathing and bleeding from a shrapnel wound in the middle of a field. The jet was crashed a few miles away, at least that’s what Tony said... What do you remember?”
Clint frowned, trying to focus past the drugs
turning his thoughts to mush.
Bright red lights.
Fear.
Falling.
He passed out… or had he? He didn’t remember waking up before he was sky-gazing…. All he remembered was staring at the clouds.
“Clouds,” Clint murmured.
“What?”
Clint turned his attention to the Captain. “I
remember clouds.”
“Did you crash the jet, Clint?”
Clint shrugged slightly, even if his sore body protested against it.
“And you don’t remember?”
“Guess not… shock… maybe I panicked…”
Steve looked almost panicked himself for a
second before he seemed to force past it. “I… uh, I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, you’re safe, you’re alive… we all are…”
“Why question fate?” Clint finished, amused. “Yeah… speaking of the others, I didn’t put the mission in jeopardy, did I? You finished, didn’t you?”
“We finished, yes,” Steve confirmed. “They had to wrap a few things up while I waited with you. Then we got you to the jet and brought you home.”
“Where is everyone…?”
“I haven’t let them know yet,” Steve said sheepishly. “I wanted to give you a bit of breathing room before they all came crowding in here… and before Natasha started scolding you.”
“Yeah…” Clint huffed a laugh and gave a small smile at the comment. “She’s gonna feather ‘n tar me one of these days…”
Clint could almost hear her voice in his
head: “You want to be a bird, Barton? Sure, let’s roll you in some tar and cover you with feathers! Let’s see how you like that!”
Clint shuddered and sighed. “I mean… Recovery’s gotta start somewhere, huh?”
At this, Steve smiled warmly. “Alright,” He said. “I’ll let them know.”