Stucky One Shots

Part 22 - The First Mission - part 1

If we're working off a timeline, which I'm not really, these are all over the place, I'd put this just after    "Don't mess with her"    as this is Tory's first mission with the Avengers. It ties in well with the ending of that. There will be a few parts to this, so enjoy.

"Tory!" Nat screamed, sprinting to my side, Clint close behind. They skidded to my side, kneeling either side of me. "You're ok, you're gonna be ok, sweetheart." She soothed, running her left hand through my hair. Though she was saying this, I didn't miss the wary glance she shot at Clint.

"Nat?" I asked, disorientation making everything slightly fuzzy.

"I'm here." I heard Clint say something but couldn't make out what he was saying. Everything felt warm, safe even, right here, right now.

Black.

Clint POV

"Nat?" She said; her voice sounded – I don't know – off. Nat murmured constant reassurances to her while my hands pressed firmly on the spray of bullet wounds in her left shoulder.

"Guys we need evac in here, NOW!" I ordered through comms.

"Who's down?" Came Bucky's breathless reply. He'd been placed in the most densely crowded room and left to incapacitate them all.

"Tory's hit. Bad." I replied, pressing harder to try and stem the bleeding as she lost consciousness.

"What?!" Came two simultaneous replies. Steve continued. "Who's with her?"

"Nat and I. She just passed out, I'd say at least six, possibly more GSW's in her left shoulder. Joint's completely obliterated, though I'm not sure how far the lowest bullets travelled." I relayed off sombrely. I couldn't even begin to imagine how they could be feeling.

Tory POV

I came around to voices surrounding me. I couldn't open my eyes – not yet – that would make it all real. This can't be real.

This was my first mission with everyone, and I'd promised I'd stay out of trouble, yet here I was. The voices became clearer.

"There is a lot of blood."

"No shit, Pointbreak."

"There's nerve damage here; I'm not sure of the severity yet.

"This is my fault, I should have-"

"Stop, Tasha. This wasn't anyone's fault."

"Stevie, doll, you're pacing again."

"Sorry."

I shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. It hurt too much, pain stabbing through my shoulder and down my body.

"Tory? Tory, sweetheart, can you hear me?" A warm hand enveloped my right one. Papa. "You're gonna be Ok, babygirl." A metal hand cupped my cheek.

"We're nearly home, sweetie. Bruce is gonna patch you up the best he can." The metal left my cheek and slid gently under my neck. I screamed as pain sliced through my shoulder and left side of my body.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I have to get you inside, and this is faster than the stupid bed." Dad apologised, anguish flooding his tone.

"I'm sorry." I managed to croak through my tears and pain.