The bangs of the gunshots were loud. The smoke and dust burned her eyes. She kept fighting, kept shooting at the enemies. She could feel him next to her, although he wasn't touching her. They fought like they always did. 

"I got to go retrieve the files," he said hastily. 

She tried to respond, but the dust in her throat strangled the words. She nodded, though she wasn't sure if he could see her. 

She shot and fought and punched and kicked and flipped, and she was making progress. The enemies number had decreased. 

Suddenly, she heard a gasp. She knew it was Clint, who else could it be? She squinted through the smoke, and she saw him. 

He was lying on the ground, a bullet hole in his side. His eyes were closed, and she couldn't tell if he was breathing. He looked... dead. She tried to fight her way over to him. She could feel the panic rising in her throat, her hands were shaking, and she couldn't think straight.

When she got to him, she fell to her knees, and inspected him. She let out a breath of relief when she saw his chest rising and falling.

Author's note: Clintasha gives me so many feels... send help. Also, comments would be great ;)