Pairings/Characters: Clint/Phil, Natasha Romanoff
Continuity: The Avengers (2012)
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Brief mention of child abuse/beatings.
Spoilers: For The Avengers (2012)
Summary: Clint and Natasha maintain a vigil by Phil’s bedside.
Date Of Completion: October 31, 2011
Date Of Posting: November 4, 2012
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Marvel and Paramount do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 601
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2012 LJ Sixth Anniversary Fic Request Meme for khylara. Pairing: Clint/Coulson. Prompt: Bedside.
The entire series can be found here.
For the weary,
Clint hated hospitals. Most people did, but most people hadn’t spent time in Emergency waiting rooms with broken bones in various cities across America. That happened when you lived in a circus and your older brother used you as a punching bag.
Clint stood by the hospital bed, his fingers twined around the railing. The smells of hospitals were always the same: antiseptic and slightly stomach-churning. The voices were usually hushed except out at the nurses’ station and the décor depressed any relatively healthy person, never mind the sick.
Clint especially hated hospitals when someone he loved was in one, his life hanging by a thread. The incessant hissing and beeping of the machines could drive a man crazy. He would have hated them more if they weren’t keeping Phil alive.
But for how long?
The wound was so grievous. Phil had already coded twice. He probably would do so again. Clint wanted to scream, but he remained silent as he gazed down at his lover’s deathly-pale face.
In his mind’s eye, he could see Phil smiling at him, holding out his arms and drawing him into an embrace that warmed his desperate heart. Phil’s fingers stroked his hair as he whispered words of endearment and reassurance, his warm body tight against Clint’s as Clint responded by slipping his arms around Phil’s back and holding on for all he was worth.
He heard a light footstep behind him and slim fingers rested on his shoulder.
“We’re all here for you,” Natasha said softly.
“I know.” Clint swallowed. “Nat, he’s hurt real bad.”
“I know.” Natasha squeezed his shoulder lightly. “But he’s got the best doctors in the world on his case.”
“He’s lost so much blood.” Clint sounded like a lost little boy. He didn’t care. He wanted his lover back, healthy and whole, damnit! “I hate him.”
Startled, Natasha asked, “Who?”
Natasha suppressed a shiver at the name. Loki had rattled her during her interrogation of him in the Hulk-proof chamber on the Helicarrier, but only for a moment. She had endured untold horrors in the Red Room and could take anything that a sadistic god could dish out.
“He forced me to maim and kill my fellow agents.” Clint’s voice was hard. “And he nearly killed Phil!”
Natasha could feel how tense Clint’s muscles were under her hand. She glanced up at the machine that beeped incessantly.
This is Phil’s life now. If he survives, he’ll be in this place for months.
The thought depressed her but she hoped that Phil would have the chance to complain about hospital food.
She remembered Phil’s kindness to her when Clint had first brought her in after deciding to recruit her instead of killing her as his orders read. She was forever grateful to the archer for that favor, and a real friendship had developed between them. Phil Coulson was part of the package, but she had grown to like him for himself very quickly as he had been assigned as her official handler and had done the perfect job, knowing exactly what she needed. She never forgot his respect and kindness to her and now they were friends.
And no one tried to kill one of her friends without paying.
“If I see that bastard again, I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine,” Clint said.
Natasha felt her own surge of rage. She squeezed Clint’s shoulder hard.
“I’ll be right beside you.”
Clint smiled at her briefly as they maintained their vigil at Phil’s bedside.