So, guys this is the last chapter of my first Clintasha fanfic *tear.* Thank you for all the follows, favs and reviews you guys have sent my way! and special thanks to Binne who has beta-ed this mess I call writing.
I hope you guys like this chapter, I'm open to being persuaded to write an epilogue (; Happy reading!
6 - Natasha
Clint woke up with a start, his lungs fighting to breathe, choking on the tube. His first instinct was to fight. Adrenalin was holding him back because the last thing he remembered was the fight. Guns, explosions, weapons and a flash of familiar red hair that made him sure he was hallucinating. She couldn't have gotten there that fast.
"Clint, stop fighting it," Natasha said, her voice entered his consciousness. Stop fighting. Clint calmed down trying to relax his muscles as best he could. "I'm getting a doctor to get that tube out of your mouth. Just relax, ok?"
Clint tried his best to nod his head.
How long had it been? How was he alive? A million questions ran through his head as his eyes went in and out of focus on the white ceiling. He saw a flash of red in his peripheral vision and closed his eyes, urging them to focus.
"Agent Barton," the man in the white lab coat, the doctor, he told himself, spoke. "Let me just take this tube out of you and give you some ice while we check you over, is that all right?"
He heard himself make a strangled noise.
Felt a soft, small hand slip into his.
Clint nodded his head.
"Alright, Agent Barton," the doctor said, running a flashlight to see if his eyes would focus but causing him to shut his eyes. He felt the hand squeeze him offering support. "How do you feel, generally?"
Someone reached over and swiped an ice cube across his lips and slipped it into his dry mouth. It felt great. Though He kept his eyes shut; he needed them to focus.
"I . . . I guess I feel okay?" Clint answered, his voice rough. Another ice cube was slipped into his mouth and he squeezed the hand that was in his as a silent thank you.
"Good, good. I would like to keep you here for another day, then you can fill out the paperwork for your discharge."
"Why does he have to stay here another day?" Natasha's sharp voice caused him to open his eyes. It was just like when Loki had taken over his mind, he was having a hard time just focusing his vision but he trained his eyes on the red of her hair.
"Observation purposes, Agent Romanoff," the doctor replied as if unfazed by the Russian. "He has been in a medically induced coma for two weeks. We are going to pump him with fluids to get the last of the medicine out of his body, and then he'll be ready to go."
The doctor paused, looking from Clint to Natasha. "If that's all, I need to fill out his paperwork and get it ready for his release tomorrow. I expect he will be staying in the Avengers Tower and will have someone at his side?"
"Good, have a nice day, Agents."
Clint turned to Natasha, his brows knitted in confusion. Two weeks.
Natasha stared at the wall behind him, tugging her hand away from his grasp. She pulled out her phone and tapped away, feeling Clint's eyes on her.
After a few more moments, she tucked her phone back into the pocket of her (Clint's) hoodie. "Steve and the team will be coming in about an hour to sit with you."
He reached over for the glass of water she had poured and drank it.
"How long have I been here?" How long have you been here?
"Two weeks," Natasha answered tentatively meeting his gaze. "You were pretty bad when we got to you."
Clint nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. He saw how she was fidgeting with her hands, how her eyes constantly scanned the room – something she hadn't done since the second year in their partnership when he'd finally gained her trust. "What's wrong, Nat?"
"Something's wrong, what is it?"
"You didn't call to check in," Natasha muttered. Why do you have a ring for me?
"By the time I was supposed to check in, I knew I was already in trouble . . . I thought Maria would call you when I didn't check in with her."
Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't call her?"
"No, I was already surrounded by then."
"The file – Stark—I . . ." Natasha said, confused breathing in to control her anger. SHIELD had known that one way or another; she would get access to the mission files and had fabricated the check in. Her body stiffened. If they hadn't done that, maybe the Avengers would have been there faster and Clint wouldn't have spent the last two weeks in a coma.
Clint let his head rest on the pillow. For someone who had been sleeping for two weeks, he felt exhausted.
"You should go to sleep," Natasha muttered, raising her hand to run a hand through his hair as she had been doing throughout the past two weeks. She stopped herself mid-action and tucked her defiant hand into the pocket of her hoodie with her phone.
"Hey, I'm sorry for adding to your wrinkles," Clint said with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood. It was a running joke between them, that each time the other was in the hospital,wrinkles were added to their ageless faces.
"You owe me a bottle of Clinique when this is over," Natasha replied with a small smile on her face.
"You need a whole box," Clint pointed out, his voice turning raspy once again, a reminder of the past two weeks where when he lay had not made a sound.
Natasha squinted her eyes in mock anger at the archer. "I should ask Fury for a new partner. Someone who won't make me age."
"You won't do it," Clint jabbed. "You love me too much."
Natasha's gaze cut to his abruptly.
Thor and the gang walked into the scene unannounced.
Natasha didn't know whether to be relieved or not.
She stood from her chair, letting Bruce take over her post by Clint's side. Standing off in the corner, she observed Clint with the team. How Clint looked while Steve talked to him about his latest adventure in attempting to fly a plane because Fury wanted him to know how to pilot a Quinjet. Thor's adventures camping with Jane. Stark's new invention which happened to be better armor for the archer to prevent the last two weeks from ever happening again, and Bruce's latest trip to Africa.
Natasha stood at the back corner watching their team fill him in on all he'd missed. Two words played in her mind in an unending cycle.
Reviews? (You might be able to pursade me to write an epilogue (;