He looks up at her through the haze of his sixth concussion that week, pretty sure there’s two of her (and wouldn’t that be great a small voice whispers before he can shut it down) and she’s smiling at him and has one hand on his chin so she can manipulate his face enough to get the goddamn sticking plasters where they’ll at least stop the blood from getting in his eyes.

"Why do you stick around, Birdie?" he asks.

There's not supposed to be Skrulls anymore. Yet, there they are. They're streaming in from their ships, and the next thing Clint knows they're fighting yet another battle for Manhattan.

And his quiver is empty.

Why anyone still lives in New York he'll never know, but he runs, really fast, for the edge of the roof, to get a good start so he can vault to the next building and hopefully recover some arrows.

He doesn't make it.

He falls, screaming. He knew this would happen one day, running with gods and superheroes. He's just a guy with a stick and a string from the Paleolithic era. He looked it up.

As he careens towards the ground, he screams.

*Bobbi, looking much the same as she did sixteen years ago, unlocks Clint's door and comes in without knocking or turning lights on or any of that crap, and goes straight to his fridge*

*she has a large bag of groceries that she starts unpacking aggressively* *she has not taken note of where Clint is, nor does she seem inclined to* 

*Clint shifts suddenly awake at the infernal beeping, rolls out of the bed and stumbles around until he pulls his Avengers card out of the pocket of a pair of jeans he meant to wash a while ago*

*several months ago*

*like seriously he wore this before the skrulls*

*ew*

*frowns at the card for a long time, rubbing his forehead tiredly, then rubs a hand over the several days' worth of stubble he hasn't given a shit to shave yet*

*swears*

Fuck that. I'm going back to bed.

*holds Bobbi tightly to him, enjoying the feel of sun through the pod*

*looks over at Kate and Tasha still sleeping, then turns and kisses Bobbi's hair*

It's so peaceful. Like, the right kind of quiet.

*great at boats, bad at pods, Clint Francis Barton can crash an alien space craft even when he isn't driving*

*luckily they land in some nice ocean*

*there may be sharks, but hey, at least they aren't skrulls*

*Clint strains and pulls against the chair restraints as he swims into consciousness inside the pod*

*looks about him, going rigid with fear*

*Bobbi has been at her lab in the tower most of the day, keeping to herself, but comes back to the building about seven*

*she hasn't expected Clint back, but the door is ajar, so she pokes her head around, wondering if he's back early, and sees him at her workstation*

Hey Sport. You don't know the password for that terminal. I swear to god I keep all my Tony Stark pornography on my stark pad. Hence the name.

*starts taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack*

Also, the password isn't Clint, no matter how many times you type it.