It had started out as a dream. They'ed been riding side by side, beautiful white horses, and then, suddenly, they were in SHIELD, Sky grown, and on a black war horse, high backed jousting saddle, charging down the corridors, Clint and Sid tapping their crops to their own mount's sides, racing away after him. They were chasing someone, something, Clint wasn't sure who until they got to a bed room at the end of the corridor, a terrified figure leaping from the floor to the bed, then rolling back to the floor, hiding up against the wall, where the horses couldn't go.
Clint dismounted, and suddenly, it was Tony on the bed, a leg broken, just staring at them, saying nothing. The person still huddled in the corner, tears running down their face. Phil...Oh god, they'ed been chasing Phil. Clint's heart broke, and he sheathed his knife (when he'd pulled it, he couldn't say) just as a figure appeared at the window closest to them, eyes glowing in the darkness and rain outside.
A knife in his own hand, long and sharp, glinted with rain water as he tapped on the glass, putting one hand through, grabbing Phil by the shirt front, dragging him to the window.
Clint shouted, scrambling back as the seven foot tall monster of a man roared, stabbing a shallow hole through the window. Clint lunged, punching his own hole through the window, going for the giant's throat. He found it easily, slicing his knife (again, when had he drawn it?) into the giant's throat.
To his horror, the giant shrunk down, falling through the glass, letting Phil go...He knew that body. Oh god, oh god oh god, what had he done? He'd just killed them.
He slid down the side of the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks, trembling like a leaf in the wind.