HC_ Bingo 2012: I'll keep you in my focus
I'll keep you in my focus
Avengers | Clint/Natasha/Bruce | ~1300 words | hc-bingo prompt: septicaemia / infected wounds | Title from Love Love Love (Love Love) by As Tall As Lions.
After a mission one thing leads to another, until finally Clint is able to go to his room. Then nobody sees him for two days.
It was just another scratch. In the life where you get beaten up on a regular basis, where scratches and bumps and bruises were the norm, and there was occasionally alien gunk, a scratch from a motel sink was nothing.
Let’s face it, his immunity was probably stronger than any normal human’s was so when he felt the sting, and saw the blood drip onto the wet marble he didn't think much of it. Before he could do anything other than curse, there was an explosion and he was running.
Once it was all over, and they realised they were all in one piece they decided to go out for something stir fried. Well, Tony decided and it was slowly becoming a tradition. So they let the paramedics give them the once over, and they were off.
Of course, once that was done he was ready to sleep for days. But, there was no rest for the wicked, so he was on a plane and on his way to the States instead. It was a private jet, courtesy of Stark Industries, but a plane was a plane and here was no way he was getting any sleep on it.
They landed on the helicarrier and were ushered to Fury’s office for a debriefing. It was dark outside by the time they were done, and Clint wasn’t sure how that time went by. He managed to drag himself to his temporary quarters and collapsed into the bed.
***
It’s been two days since Natasha last saw Clint and even though she knew he liked his space after a mission, she was worried. It wasn’t just her, nobody had seen him. She even obtained a copy of the security footage and he hasn’t left his room at all.
She marched down to his room, and when her knocking went unanswered, she picked the lock. She found him curled up in bed, still in his grubby uniform.
“Tasha?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She slowly approached the bed and placed a hand on his forehead. He shied away but not before she felt how hot he was.
“You’re burning up,” she said, then put a hand under each arm and pulled him up.
“That explains a lot actually,” he said.
“Idiot,” she muttered.
“That’s not very nice,” he said, leaning heavily on her, “where are we going?”
“The medics,” she said, opening the door and walking out, “you’re sick.”
“I’m fine,” he said, “I just need to sleep it off.” He tried to pull away, but he could barely stand on his own two feet, he was not breaking away from her in this state.
“Of course,” she said, “sleep it off in the medical bay.”
“Okay,” he said, “do you think they’ll have water?”
“I’m sure they do,” she said, “maybe even some ice.”
Clint hummed in appreciation but didn’t say anything else, allowing himself to be half steered, half dragged to the medical bay.
“A little help,” she calls out once she’s in the door, and people in white lab coats were swooping in on them. “He’s got a fever,” she told them, “over a hundred, it’s been at least two days, there was a mission in east Asia, we were cleared by the paramedics-”
“Thank you,” one of the doctors said, “we can take it from here.” He gestured towards the door and she took the hint.
She stepped outside to find Steve and Thor waiting for her, and Tony and Bruce fast approaching. “What happened?” Steve said.
“Did you find him?” Tony asked.
“He was in his room the whole time,” she said, “it looks like some sort of infection.”
“I thought we were all cleared,” Bruce said.
“I guess they missed something,” she said.
“Will he be alright?” Thor asked.
“Yes,” she said, “of course he will be.”
Steve put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but didn't say anything else.
***
The doctors couldn't have been more than an hour, but to Bruce it felt like much longer. When they finally let them in though, Clint was sitting up, a bandage around his hand, and an IV drip going into his arm.
“The doctors said it was an infection,” Clint said, holding up his hand, “I don't even remember getting this one.”
“You’re an idiot,” Bruce said, sitting down.
“You know, Natasha said the same thing to me,” Clint said.
“Maybe it’s because I was dragging you out of bed after no one had seen you for two days,” Natasha said, sitting in the opposite chair, on Clint’s other side.
“Don’t do that again,” Steve said.
“Oh, you know it’s serious when he uses his Captain Voice,” Tony said, and Steve rolled his eyes at him.
“You caused a lot of distress among us,” Thor said, “I would heed Steve’s warning. Do not do it again.”
Clint look around at them and sighed. “I- Thanks,” he said, not making eye contact with any of them.
Eventually, everyone left except for Natasha, who had curled up in the corner loveseat and went to sleep, and Bruce, who only leaves to retrieve his tablet before returning to settle in for the night.
It’s dark, even though nobody got up to turn the lights off. It was probably automated, because the change from light to dark was barely noticeable.
Clint had gone to sleep at some point, but Bruce didn’t mind. He had his tablet and his work, and the soft sounds of people sleeping, people he didn’t usually see so relaxed, even though Natasha still looked like a spring wound tight, ready to uncoil if she had to.
Bruce looked away from her, feeling himself blush, even though there was no one there to see.
“She’s gorgeous like this, isn’t she.”
Bruce felt his whole body tense. “You know, it’s not really a good idea to startle someone with control issues.”
Clint grinned at him. “Good thing you have your issues controlled then.”
Bruce smiled back at him. “Yeah,” he said, “and I’m sorry, I didn't mean to step on any toes.”
“By staring at Tasha?” Clint said, “no toe stepping here, though if she ever caught you she might punch you in the balls, control issues or no, isn’t that right Nat?”
“Right,” Natasha said without opening her eyes.
“You’re not-” Bruce said, gesturing between them, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say sleeping or sleeping together so didn't say anything.
Bruce didn’t miss the fond look Clint directed towards Natasha, despite the dim lighting. It took him by surprise when Clint turned that look towards him. “Look at it this way, doc,” he said, “there’s a reason that it’s past midnight and only you and Nat are still here.”
Bruce tried to come up with an excuse, each one more feeble than the last. He licked his lips but stayed silent.
Natasha took the opportunity to stretch, extending her arms and arching her back.
“Now you’re just teasing,” Bruce blurted out.
“That’s my superpower, doc,” she said and smiled, moving aside, making room for him on the small couch.
He smiled a little in return and got up to join her. She shifted so she was curled up again, her head in Bruce’s lap this time. It was only natural for him to place his hand on her waist.
“Keep an eye on him for me, will you?” she said, closing her own eyes.
He looked up to see Clint smiling at them. He opened his mouth to say something, protest maybe, but Clint shook his head. “We can talk in the morning,” he said quietly and closed his eyes.
Bruce looked between the two sleeping assassins. The morning was for clarity and explanations, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy this right now.
Avengers | Clint/Natasha/Bruce | ~1300 words | hc-bingo prompt: septicaemia / infected wounds | Title from Love Love Love (Love Love) by As Tall As Lions.
After a mission one thing leads to another, until finally Clint is able to go to his room. Then nobody sees him for two days.
It was just another scratch. In the life where you get beaten up on a regular basis, where scratches and bumps and bruises were the norm, and there was occasionally alien gunk, a scratch from a motel sink was nothing.
Let’s face it, his immunity was probably stronger than any normal human’s was so when he felt the sting, and saw the blood drip onto the wet marble he didn't think much of it. Before he could do anything other than curse, there was an explosion and he was running.
Once it was all over, and they realised they were all in one piece they decided to go out for something stir fried. Well, Tony decided and it was slowly becoming a tradition. So they let the paramedics give them the once over, and they were off.
Of course, once that was done he was ready to sleep for days. But, there was no rest for the wicked, so he was on a plane and on his way to the States instead. It was a private jet, courtesy of Stark Industries, but a plane was a plane and here was no way he was getting any sleep on it.
They landed on the helicarrier and were ushered to Fury’s office for a debriefing. It was dark outside by the time they were done, and Clint wasn’t sure how that time went by. He managed to drag himself to his temporary quarters and collapsed into the bed.
***
It’s been two days since Natasha last saw Clint and even though she knew he liked his space after a mission, she was worried. It wasn’t just her, nobody had seen him. She even obtained a copy of the security footage and he hasn’t left his room at all.
She marched down to his room, and when her knocking went unanswered, she picked the lock. She found him curled up in bed, still in his grubby uniform.
“Tasha?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She slowly approached the bed and placed a hand on his forehead. He shied away but not before she felt how hot he was.
“You’re burning up,” she said, then put a hand under each arm and pulled him up.
“That explains a lot actually,” he said.
“Idiot,” she muttered.
“That’s not very nice,” he said, leaning heavily on her, “where are we going?”
“The medics,” she said, opening the door and walking out, “you’re sick.”
“I’m fine,” he said, “I just need to sleep it off.” He tried to pull away, but he could barely stand on his own two feet, he was not breaking away from her in this state.
“Of course,” she said, “sleep it off in the medical bay.”
“Okay,” he said, “do you think they’ll have water?”
“I’m sure they do,” she said, “maybe even some ice.”
Clint hummed in appreciation but didn’t say anything else, allowing himself to be half steered, half dragged to the medical bay.
“A little help,” she calls out once she’s in the door, and people in white lab coats were swooping in on them. “He’s got a fever,” she told them, “over a hundred, it’s been at least two days, there was a mission in east Asia, we were cleared by the paramedics-”
“Thank you,” one of the doctors said, “we can take it from here.” He gestured towards the door and she took the hint.
She stepped outside to find Steve and Thor waiting for her, and Tony and Bruce fast approaching. “What happened?” Steve said.
“Did you find him?” Tony asked.
“He was in his room the whole time,” she said, “it looks like some sort of infection.”
“I thought we were all cleared,” Bruce said.
“I guess they missed something,” she said.
“Will he be alright?” Thor asked.
“Yes,” she said, “of course he will be.”
Steve put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but didn't say anything else.
***
The doctors couldn't have been more than an hour, but to Bruce it felt like much longer. When they finally let them in though, Clint was sitting up, a bandage around his hand, and an IV drip going into his arm.
“The doctors said it was an infection,” Clint said, holding up his hand, “I don't even remember getting this one.”
“You’re an idiot,” Bruce said, sitting down.
“You know, Natasha said the same thing to me,” Clint said.
“Maybe it’s because I was dragging you out of bed after no one had seen you for two days,” Natasha said, sitting in the opposite chair, on Clint’s other side.
“Don’t do that again,” Steve said.
“Oh, you know it’s serious when he uses his Captain Voice,” Tony said, and Steve rolled his eyes at him.
“You caused a lot of distress among us,” Thor said, “I would heed Steve’s warning. Do not do it again.”
Clint look around at them and sighed. “I- Thanks,” he said, not making eye contact with any of them.
Eventually, everyone left except for Natasha, who had curled up in the corner loveseat and went to sleep, and Bruce, who only leaves to retrieve his tablet before returning to settle in for the night.
It’s dark, even though nobody got up to turn the lights off. It was probably automated, because the change from light to dark was barely noticeable.
Clint had gone to sleep at some point, but Bruce didn’t mind. He had his tablet and his work, and the soft sounds of people sleeping, people he didn’t usually see so relaxed, even though Natasha still looked like a spring wound tight, ready to uncoil if she had to.
Bruce looked away from her, feeling himself blush, even though there was no one there to see.
“She’s gorgeous like this, isn’t she.”
Bruce felt his whole body tense. “You know, it’s not really a good idea to startle someone with control issues.”
Clint grinned at him. “Good thing you have your issues controlled then.”
Bruce smiled back at him. “Yeah,” he said, “and I’m sorry, I didn't mean to step on any toes.”
“By staring at Tasha?” Clint said, “no toe stepping here, though if she ever caught you she might punch you in the balls, control issues or no, isn’t that right Nat?”
“Right,” Natasha said without opening her eyes.
“You’re not-” Bruce said, gesturing between them, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say sleeping or sleeping together so didn't say anything.
Bruce didn’t miss the fond look Clint directed towards Natasha, despite the dim lighting. It took him by surprise when Clint turned that look towards him. “Look at it this way, doc,” he said, “there’s a reason that it’s past midnight and only you and Nat are still here.”
Bruce tried to come up with an excuse, each one more feeble than the last. He licked his lips but stayed silent.
Natasha took the opportunity to stretch, extending her arms and arching her back.
“Now you’re just teasing,” Bruce blurted out.
“That’s my superpower, doc,” she said and smiled, moving aside, making room for him on the small couch.
He smiled a little in return and got up to join her. She shifted so she was curled up again, her head in Bruce’s lap this time. It was only natural for him to place his hand on her waist.
“Keep an eye on him for me, will you?” she said, closing her own eyes.
He looked up to see Clint smiling at them. He opened his mouth to say something, protest maybe, but Clint shook his head. “We can talk in the morning,” he said quietly and closed his eyes.
Bruce looked between the two sleeping assassins. The morning was for clarity and explanations, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy this right now.