Okay so Clint was apparently less alive than Wanda had initially thought. It was just a bit of nastiness sprayed over him, he'd taken a lot more and stayed on his feet. Well, everyone had a point and apparently this was his. He would have to be tended to before Wanda could even think of doing anything else, which was unfortunate since she was drained and the fire was burning out and the dead were making their way closer.
Wanda guided Clint to his knees and quickly sopped up some the blood and flesh on his face with the hem of her cloak, wiping it out of his eyes and away from his mouth. She knew exactly what he was going through with this, having managed to do it to herself once ages ago in New Orleans. She knew it wasn't pleasant. "Come on, Clint, you're fine, all right?" she told him as calmly as she could though there was an edge of panic creeping into her voice. She hadn't wanted to have to play the leader but thrust in the position there was no other choice. "You're fine," she said with more conviction, "You'll be okay. You'll be perfectly all right. We need you, come on, Clint."
At the sound of Jan's voice Wanda swiveled her head, lips pursed as she stared between the barely conscious Hawkeye and the direction Jan's voice had come from. There were children, Clint would understand. Pietro would be back soon, he could try to get Clint back on his feet. "Stay here," she murmured- as if he was really going anywhere in this state. Wanda sucked in a deep breath and focused a little dome of energy around Clint's slumped form in hopes that she could protect him at least for a little while while she went to help the civilians.
"Where?" she asked when she reached Jan, staring around for the hidden kids.