Note: From a prompt on Tumblr from thisiswintermute and Kisleth: Gif set of "House" Season 4 episode 9: Games (19 minute mark). This is how Clint acts on the good drugs.

"How did you let this happen?" Natasha demanded, a tight frown tugging at the corners of her mouth as they shouldered their way through the over crowded halls of New York Presbyterian Hospital. Gurneys lined one wall, the dazed looking emergency patents covered in concrete dust and smears of blood.

"I didn't let it happen," Phil replied, his own expression pinched. He shifted out of the way as a little boy, a bandage over his ear and rubble still clinging to his jacket, tugged his harried looking mother past them. "It just… happened."

"I'm sure he's fine," Steve said, his words belied by the tense set of his shoulders. Tony stared at him mutely for a moment as the four of them stopped in the middle of the hall, the flow of nurses slipping around them as if they were rocks in a stream.

"He's missing Cap," Stark said with a frown. "No ones seen Barton since his perch blew out from under him!"

"He must have got swept up by the paramedics with the rest of the injured," Phil insisted through gritted teeth, glaring down at his phone. "This is why I want trackers on your uniforms, it doesn't do us any good to find his com in the rubble if he's not attached to it."

"The day you tag me like a sea turtle is the day you wake up missing your favorite appendages," Natasha told him, clearly unimpressed as she checked her own phone. Tony ran his fingers through his unkept hair in frustration.

"Jarvis, have you found anything yet?" he asked, his focus turning toward the lens that hovered on a small armature over his right eye. Steve had to reach out and pull him out of the middle of the hallway to keep him from colliding with two grinning teenagers with bald heads, one of them pushing an IV pole as they shuffled hurriedly down the hall. "No, I'll tell him. Thor says that they haven't found any trace of him at his last position but Hulk wants to keep looking."

"Tell him to try to stop digging when he reaches pavement," Phil suggested.

"I like you but not enough to tell the Big Guy when to stop," Tony replied sharply.

"I thought maybe he was taken," Natasha said looking increasingly irritated. "But we've leaned on the ones we picked up and no one cracked. So it doesn't seem likely."

"Who leaned on them?" Steve asked suspiciously but Natasha didn't answer.

"Daisy and Melinda say that only one patient came into Mount Sinai without an ID, female," Phil said in frustration. "They don't think any of the wounded ended up at Lenox but they're going to check anyway."

"Well then he's got to be here somewhere," Steve declared, stepping out of the way as a pair of kids in hospital gowns pushed past him, giggling as they made their way hurriedly toward the recreation lounge.

"We've checked every ward but maternity and pediatrics," Natasha bit out.

"Where are all these small people going?" Tony demanded, nearly flattening himself against Steve as a wheelchair zoomed past him, its passenger squealing in delight as the boy pushing her took the corner at what was decidedly an unsafe speed that nearly smacked her freshly casted leg into the wall. "This is a hospital not a race track."

"They do look terribly happy for just being permanently traumatized," Phil observed. The ebb and flow of a hospital in the midst of a crisis continued around them, almost drowning out the distant peals of children's laughter.

"What do you figure the chances are that Clint was cognizant enough to decline medication when he came in here?" Natasha asked, eyeing Phil. Coulson's eyes widened, a ring of white framing his pupils and they all froze.

"Oh my god, we have to find him now," Steve declared in horror as the four of them took off, rounding the corner where the high speed wheelchair had disappeared only moments before, following the sound of cheers and shrieks of laughter.

"Well it could have been worse," Natasha observed with a sigh as they skidded to a stop.

"Who am I?" Clint declared, his voice a deep rumble as he balanced precariously on a bright pink beach ball. He fluffed out the pale blue blanket tied around his neck before placing his fists on his hospital gown clad hips with a flourish. "I'm Hawkguy!"

"Well that escalated quickly," Tony observed as more than twenty surrounding children whooped and cheered.

"We're too late, he's already amassed his army of disciples," Steve said resigned.

"Neither sleet nor hail nor dread of night," Clint declared loudly, stepping off the beach ball with more grace than an inebriated man should have. He adjusted his bed-cape, before bowing like the consummate performer he was. "Children I bid you, goodnight. And I'm off!" He spun on his foot, leaping into the air only to belly flop out of view with a thud. Phil winced.

"Jarvis, tell me you're getting this all on tape," Tony pleaded, tapping the edge of his eyepiece.

"I shall ignore that lack of confidence in my abilities, sir," Jarvis replied. Tony looked proud enough to cry.

"Hey!" Clint shambled to his feet, his hands on his hips and his cape twisted around sideways. "Which one of you guys zapped my powers? Was it you?" Steve covered his face with his hand, too stunned to speak as Clint honed in on a little boy about nine, his brown eyes hardly containing his glee.

"Did you take my powers?" Clint demanded, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, but the boy only laughed. He rounded on a little girl. "Maybe it was you? Well no matter I'm feeling stronger already!" Clint threw back his shoulders in his best muscle pose as his newly assembled fan club broke out into fresh laughter. He held the pose only a moment before tipping over backwards and landing flat on his back amid screams of joy.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and this happens," Natasha said, her boots framing either side of Clint's head as she stared down at him.

"Heeeey, Tasha!" Clint's voice held the tone of the very thoroughly intoxicated as he grinned up at her. "Did I sit down?"

"You don't have super powers," A little boy insisted, his nose only inches from Clint's face. Barton blinked up at him slowly.

"I'm super," Clint protested, a hint of hurt in his tone. "I'm sort of super. Natasha, tell him."

"Your super power is getting into trouble," Tony insisted, leaning in next to her. Clint gave him a wide, pleased grin before bobbling his head back in the boy's direction.

"See? Told you," He said, sticking out his tongue.

"I'm going to," Phil pointed at the nurses station, rubbing his head.

"You do that," Steve said nodding, "And maybe we'll get him signed out of here before they take over the ward and make him their king." Phil gave him a withering look as Natasha and Tony moved to haul Clint clumsily to his feet.

"That was one time," Phil protested as the kids whistled and cheered.

Part of the Series Coulson Lives but the Avengers Might be the Death of Him. You can find the series order on my profile page