"What, big smart assassin like you can't count that high?" It doesn't really matter what either of them are saying, Sam's honestly not paying that much attention to it. It's the tone that matters, light and teasing, it's giving Clint something to focus on, keeping him awake and responding.

His focus is entirely on Clint's arm right now. There's other injuries, and those Sam can at least patch up before they head back, but this - goddamn, this is bad news. This isn't something that Sam can fix, not in an arena. This is - this is Kurloz in the ice arena all over again, but at least Clint didn't hack it off himself this time.

"Okay. Okay, partner, stay with me, this is gonna hurt a little."

More than a little, but Sam brushes past that, pulling out a clump of fabric and pressing it to Clint's lips.

"Bite down on this if you need to," he mutters, then gets to work on one hell of a tourniquet.