Hey everyone! Not sure if anyone is still reading this but here's day 27! Ps, I have been through withdrawal so I know what I'm writing (I never had seizures but with extreme withdrawal it can happen)
WITHDRAWAL
Natasha had been badly hurt on a mission. Her left leg had shattered, her spleen had ruptured inside her, at least six ribs had been broken or cracked, her wrist had been fractured and she'd gone through multiple surgeries.
It had been two weeks since her last surgery and she was still in medical, hooked up to multiple IV's giving her medicine.
Her injuries were healing nicely and the doctors had decided she was awake and coherent enough to take her own pain medication.
They removed the needles and handed her a little cup with two tablets (a painkiller and muscle relaxant), and a little cup with liquid morphine.
Natasha had been suitably loopy since she'd woken up and was just starting to wake up from the haze she'd been in for the past two weeks.
She didn't want to feel that way at all. It was awful. Her mind would be fuzzy and every movement she made was lethargic and disjointed.
She cheeked the meds, the morphine burning her tongue. When the doctor left, she spat it all out under her pillow and leaned back against the bed frame.
Sure, she knew that she shouldn't just stop taking meds, she should tamper it down. But she couldn't feel that way anymore. The meds had made her weak, had let her mind wonder to places she didn't want her thoughts to go.
She was the Black Widow. She didn't need medication. Her body would handle the pain and deal with it on its own.
Half a day passed, and Natasha was in an immeasurable amount of pain.
She gritted her teeth and bared it.
That's when the shaking started.
She couldn't get warm, her fingers numb as she pulled the blankets up to her chest.
Clint had been sleeping in the chair beside her, waking when Natasha's shuddering knocked his hand from his face.
"Wha'?" He jerked up, blinking.
"Nat?" He asked softly, frowning as he reached for her.
"Jesus, you're shaking." He said softly, doing what she couldn't and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
Her face was slightly green, a layer of sweat covering her skin.
"Are you in pain?" He frowned, glancing at the chart. "You're probably due some meds, do you want me to get them?"
Natasha shook her head, swallowing hard.
"No." She growled, voice low and shaking.
"Natasha what's going on? You're in pain, you need the meds."
"No." She said, firmer this time.
Clint sighed, rubbing his face. "Fine. Fine, okay. For now." He said quietly.
He saw the moment her face twisted and she grabbed herself tightly.
He had the waste bin under her chin just as she threw up.
He soothed her softly, brushing her hair back and rubbing up and down her back.
His worry grew, because now she'd thrown up what meds he thought she had taken.
"Tash, maybe we should ask to put the IV in again, just until you're less nauseous."
She shook her head no, her teeth chattering as she sank back against the pillows.
Clint pursed his lips and gently touched her cheek.
"Fuck, Tash, you're burning up." He exclaimed, pressing his cool palm against her forehead.
"I...I'm f...fine-" She shuddered.
"You're clearly not." He said quietly, tucking the blanket under her chin.
"Will be. Just...power through." She grunted, barely hiding a wince.
"The lights..'' She mumbled. "Turn them off. Please."
Clint did that, frowning again. She hadn't hurt her head so it didn't really make much sense it would hurt now.
"I really think I should get the doctor. Please, Tash, they can help."
She shot him down again and he sighed, slumping bsck in his seat.
The next half hour, Natasha seemed to get worse.
She couldn't stop shaking and when she spoke, it took her a long time to get the words out correctly.
Her skin was the palest he'd ever seen and she was continuously dry heaving into the bin.
He brushed her hair back, rubbing his fingers over her scalp, worry twisting his stomach.
She looked like she'd fallen asleep, but Clint knew she wasn't. She'd closed her eyes, even the dimmest lights hurting her eyes.
When she next rolled over, her cheeks were wet.
"Talk to me, Natasha." He said softly, touching the back of her neck.
"Don't...want t...to be...fu...fuzzy 'nymore." She whispered, teeth gritted.
"I know it's not nice, you know I do, but Nat you're in pain." He whispered. "You threw up your meds and now you're in more pain."
"Didn't." She mumbled.
"Didn't what?"
"Throw them up."
"What do you mean, Nat?"
"Didn't t...take 'em in the f...first place." Her voice was slow and thick, hard to understand.
"Jesus Nat, what were you thinking?" It made sense now. She hadn't taken meds for what? Half a day? And now on top of the pain, she was going through withdrawal.
"That's it, you're getting meds. You know you have to taper them off, you can't just stop."
"I know." She whispered weakly. "Thought...I'd be s...strong enough."
"Natasha, you're the strongest person I know. But you're recovering from major injuries, the meds will help your pain. I know you don't like how they make your head feel but they make your body feel better right?"
"Y...yeah I guess." She sniffled.
"Then isn't it worth it? I'll be right here. You can sleep through the worst of the haze, and when you wake up, we'll play games to distract you. I'll talk to you, sing to you, do anything you want." He whispered. "Please Nat, take some meds for me?"
She didn't answer him and he thought she was thinking through it when she jerked under his hand.
Her eyes were closed, her teeth biting into her lips as her body shuddered.
"Fuck-" he cursed, slamming the nurse call button.
He ripped the blanket off her, making sure her head was cushioned as her limbs jerked and her body arched back.
"Goddammit Natasha." He hissed. Of course when she'd just been giving into the idea of drugs, she had to have a goddamn seizure.
The doctors pushed past him, sliding needles into her skin and shoving him out of the room.
...
Later that night, Natasha woke up. Her eyes were clouded as she blinked through fog, but her body was blissfully numb.
"Natasha?" Clint asked softly, cupping her jaw. "Hey babe." He murmured.
"C...Clint?" She frowned.
"You're alright. I know you're fuzzy right now, just focus on me. I'm here." He breathed, kissing the back of her hand.
She said his name again, confusion evident.
"You're okay." He reassured. "You're in the hospital, on some pretty kick ass pain meds. Just focus on me, look at me. Try not to think too much. Here," He hummed, minding her broken leg and other injuries as he sat on the bed next to her.
"I'll tell you a story, hmm? Focus on my voice, close your eyes and let yourself rest." He said softly, brushing her hair and watching her eyes flutter shut.
"Once upon a time..."