"Ugh...," He groaned and walked slowly out of the building where he had been attacked. He was holding his side and fighting to keep himself awake. "I'm sorry Tasha." He wasn't sure how he was going to get home.
Clint had been gone for a few days on a mission after arguing with Natasha about something. He had been fighting all day against somebody. After awhile he just collapsed badly injured.
The archer was very pale and was losing a lot of blood.

Clint didn't return, and was deeply concious, his ribs were broken and he was struggling to breath. He had been slammed into a wall rather hard, there was blood on his forehead and he had a deep cut in his side.
He gasped weakly in his sleep.

It had taken Natasha an eternity (or rather it just felt like it) to find Clint. In this worn down dark part of some little city in China. Broken and bloodied she cradled him in her lap doing the best she could to field dress his wounds. By the looks of it he had been out for quite sometime. An hour at the most. His hands were cold, he was hardly breathing, but thankfully she hag gotten there in time.

SHIELD had the best doctors at their disposal.

She could trust them with Clint’s life as she took up a constant vigil over her only friend in the world. Sure, you could argue that the other Avengers counted, but Natasha didn’t see it that way. The only person she could trust was lying there on that hospital bed, out cold with his injuries and all the drugs.

Coulson had said they had done all they could and that now it was a waiting game.

Well, that’s what she was going to do. Wait.

When Clint finally came too, he was dizzy and he seemed very pale. He coughed and groaned looking around "Tasha...," He said weakly. He was shivering a bit. He seemed very weak and tired. The man didn't stay awake long, he had a fever.

"Tash..," He muttered in his sleep. Who ever had attacked him had really got him quite good. He seemed to be just barely able to stay awake at the moment due to the weakness and all the medicines he was on.

When he awoke again, he looked around. He seemed a bit more awake this time. "Natasha.? Where Am I?" He wasn't sure what happened or how he had been found. The assassin lay on the bed and groaned weakly.
He could tell he had been injured quite badly.

Natasha was leaning over Clint almost as soon as he was coherent enough to actually realize where he was. “You’re back in New York.” she said coolly. Her blue eyes searching for his, hoping to read his mind, as if she could.

“I got you to a SHIELD Hospital...”

Sighing she asked quietly, “Clint... what happened who did this to you?”

Clint sat up and groaned in pain from his injured. He blinked looking rather confused "I don't remember...
," He said. Either he truly didn't remember or he was just not wanting to talk about it.
He was pale and he coughed flopping back onto the bed.
His wounds hurting badly.
"It hurts so much."