Life
Clint was starting to panic.
Wanda's lips were blue and no amount of compressions would help if she didn't have air.
Clattering behind him alerted him to Steve's presence as the man tipped the medical bags out on the floor.
"You know cpr?" Clint asked.
"Yes." Steve moved closer on his knees.
"Keep on doing that." Clint searched through the bags as Steve continued the compressions.
The archer brought the defibrillator over, but first emptied out the intubation kit.
He'd only ever done it once before. But he had to try.
He sat at Wanda's head, her body shaking with each compression.
He tipped her head back, his teeth ripping open the packaging.
He pulled her mouth open, taking a breath before slowly winding the tubing through her teeth and down her throat.
Sure it was in the right place, he attached the ambu bag.
"Steve, stop for a second."
Steve pulled his hands back and Clint pressed the bag, exhaling shakily as her chest rose.
He didn't have time to feel relief, her heart was still not beating.
"Steve, I need you to push this bag three times quickly, whenever compressions stop."
Clint muttered a soft apology as he pushed the blue shirt they all wore up to her neck.
He quickly peeled the pads of the defibrillator and stuck them onto her chest, no time to even think. Just act.
The monitor calculated her pulse, and then spoke 'shock advised'.
"Don't touch her." Clint warned, eyes making sure Steve wasn't touching her, and that he was clear himself.
He pressed the button and her body jolted.
The machine beeped once before continuing its flatline.
"Breathing." Clint ordered, balling his fist and hitting her sternum once before moving again to press down on her chest.
A snap sounded through the room and Clint cursed softly but didn't let the fact he'd broken a rib deter him.
He pulled back and Steve pressed the bag again.
"Please, kid." Clint whispered, watching the monitor before telling Steve to back up.
Wanda jolted again, and this time the screen registered a heartbeat.
"Keep using the bag, she can't breathe on her own."
Clint pulled her shirt down, one hand cupping her cheek.
Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.
But her lips were pink, and her cheeks had colour.
That was enough for now.
Clint looked up, only now registering the fact Sam and Scott were watching from their cells.
"You need to get her to a hospital." Clint brushed hair from her forehead.
"We have somewhere set up." Steve nodded, pressing evenly on the bag.
"Okay. Then you need to go there now." Clint slowly pushed himself up to his feet.
"What about-"
"We'll figure it out. You got us the keys." He said firmly.
Steve nodded, quickly and easily lifting the woman into the crook of one arm, the other hand continued to press on the bag.
Clint gathered the medical supplies and slipped the bag onto Steve's shoulder.
"I know you can't tell me where you're going. But call me if anything happens. When you get there. I just...need to know she's okay."
"I will. I'm so sorry this happened, Clint."
"Me too." The archer shook his head. "Go."
Clint bent to pick up the keys, quickly letting the other two men out their cells.
"Now what?" Sam asked.
"Now we go home. If they try to drag us back, they won't succeed. Scott?"
"I'm ready to get back to my daughter." His voice shook just a little.
"Man, me too." Clint sighed. Getting home to Natasha, his kids, his sister and his nephew...that was all he wanted.
This day had been god awful.
Wanda was going to be okay, right?