A/N: SOOOO… This was one of those ideas that just jumped on me. Out of nowhere. And here we are. (chuckles)
DISCLAIMER: Me owns NOTHING. The song inspring this, the characters, the picture next to the title… They all belong to the geniuses who created them. (smiles) All I've got is a busy head and a bunch of DVDs.
WARNINGS: CLAURA, descriptions of injury and violence, adult themes, language… (Yes, Steve, language.) Uh… You still out there…?
SONG INSPIRATION: 'Tightrope' from 'The Greatest Showman' (Michelle Williams)
Awkay… Because starting something new is always nerve-wrecking… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.
1 – Hand in my hand, And we promised to never let go
The fact that Clint had a gunshot wound when they met for the first time should've been a warning sign. The fact that the encounter happened at an ER where Laura worked as a nurse wasn't reassuring, either. And perhaps she should've started running away when she had to patch him up again on their first date. But one of those things Laura and Clint had in common was that they were both too stubborn for their own good. With the first signs of just how easily she could lose him Laura began to hold on tighter. Like her sheer willpower would be enough to keep his horribly dangerous lifestyle from catching up with him.
In return he came back to her, time after time. Far too often with injuries and new shadows hiding in the depths of his eyes, tainting the way they shone for her like two stars. And every time he came back he stood at her door, even when he could barely actually stand. Even when he had to spend some time at a hospital first.
Then came one late evening, roughly three weeks after their fifth official date, that was… more dramatic than the reunions before.
The second Laura came back from a grocery store and noticed that her apartment's door wasn't closed properly she froze. A cold, steel-hard ball swell in the pit of her stomach while she evaluated her options. Then decided that she was definitely out of her mind.
Laura's steps were practically soundless as she approached and eventually entered the apartment. No lights had been switched on but she could feel a presence. It was sort of hard not to once she noticed the stains of blood leading to the bathroom.
There, finally, some light waited. Which wasn't much comfort with what was revealed. The package of chamomile tea she just bought from a grocery store fell unnaturally loudly.
From that day on the scent of chamomile tea made Laura throw up every single time.
There was blood, a rather disturbing amount of it. And in the middle of it lay Clint on his back. Bruised, pale and unmoving.
Laura was fairly sure that she held her breath while shock set in. She expelled the building up pressure with a barely audible, gasped whisper. "Oh, god…" Then, in a razor-sharp flash, her professional instincts kicked in. She crash-landed to the floor with a brutal amount of force that made her knees scream. The second she was close enough her hands were working busily. Evaluating, seeking, hoping, hoping, hoping… "Clint?" She shook him as much as she dared to with no idea of his injuries. "Can you hear me?" It was a surprise how even her voice sounded. Shock does miracles to a person, it seems.
Clint's eyelids fluttered, then opened the slightest bit. He squinted against the light before managing to focus on her, at least a little. "Sorry." It was just one word but seemed to require a tremendous amount of effort. "… made a mess …"
"Yeah, Barton, you did." Laura wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh, cry or punch him. In the end she chose to focus on what looked suspiciously like a gunshot wound. She didn't like how close to his delicate stomach area the injury was. Or how much dark blood kept flowing out. She had to swallow thrice before she could trust her voice. "I have to move you a little. Did you hurt your back at any point?" If the idiot succeeded in suffering damage to his spine… The barely visible shake of a head which cut her trail of thought was a small comfort. "Okay. Okay. This is going to hurt, but I need you to keep breathing. And I need you to stay awake. Are we clear?"
Did Clint actually have the nerve to try and grin? Quite the accomplishment for someone barely conscious. "Yes, ma'am", he managed.
Laura rolled her eyes, her body too much in a shock to register the tidal wave of worry that made her hands tremble. She steeled herself, then grabbed Clint. And began to shift him.
Clint moaned, so low that it sounded more like a growl. His whole body was shaking almost like it'd been spasming from agony and shock. She like she'd been punched upon facing the fact that her inspection confirmed what she feared. There was no exit wound. And to make matters worse, her jostling him shifted the bullet just enough to make the bleeding worse. She cursed, loudly and colorfully.
Clint emitted something raspy that could've been a chuckle. It turned into a heart wrenching mew when she shifted him back to his original position, even the gentlest of maneuvering too much on him. "… language …"
She glared at him, some of the sheer terror transforming to anger. "You're bleeding out on my bathroom floor. You don't get to be a language police", she snapped more harshly than she'd intended.
Clint didn't seem to mind, barely seemed to hear her. His eyelids were drooping and he was struggling to keep focusing on her. She was losing him.
Laura cursed again. It helped her mind latch on solving the problem. "I'll have to remove the bullet." She wouldn't be able to do much about the bleeding with the bullet in her way. "And… Sorry, but… It's not gonna be a lot of fun."
It was Clint's turn to steel himself. He gritted his teeth so hard that it made a sound and fixed all his attention on the ceiling. Gulping air into her unpleasantly tight lungs Laura searched the first aid kit Clint had dumped on the floor and found a set of tweezers. Not exactly ideal and definitely not sanitary enough. But if the other option was watching her boyfriend actually bleeding out…
Clint remained incredibly, almost infuriatingly, strong for a very long time. But eventually the procedure got to him. By the time Laura had almost reached the bullet he screamed and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
Getting the bullet out was easier than Laura had expected. Trying to get the bleeding to stop… Now that turned out to be a challenge. Just like keeping her surprise patient awake.
"Clint!" She sounded absolutely terrified. "What did I tell you about staying awake? Eyes on me!" She pretended that she didn't know why her eyes blurred. "You… You should be in an operating theater…!"
Clint shook his head as much as someone in his condition could. "No… 'pitals… Or clinics… 'd find me…"
By then Laura's hands were slick with red. How much longer, before…? Her heart was racing while her boyfriend's whole system struggled to keep him alive. "What about S.H.I.E.L.D? They have…"
Clint's eyes, what little she could see of them, darkened. "Too far." It was a fact they were much too aware of. If they wanted him to have even the slightest chance…
Laura pressed down harder and bit her lip to not cry out at how his body arched as a protest. "I, ah… I have to apply pressure." Because the bleeding still wasn't stopping.
"… 's okay." Clint's trembling was slowing, fading away. Just like the light in his barely open eyes. He offered her the best smile he possibly could. "… 'tever 'ppens… 's okay." With those rather ominous words he lost consciousness.
Laura stared for a second. Not wanting to comprehend… To even imagine… "No!" she barked out with all the fight there was in her. A desperate, terrified animal facing a battle. "No, no, no…! Barton, you a…!"
She never got the chance to finish. Because just then steps entered through the apartment's door she never remembered to close. And before she understood fully what was happening a small army of medical professionals barged in, started barking orders and working on Clint. When they pushed her out of the way she hissed and prepared herself to fight. Until a man in a suit who appeared seemingly out of thin air grabbed her wrist.
"Let them work." In comparison to his outfit and the overall aura of threatening authority around him his voice was surprisingly gentle. Did it… almost break? "We need to give them room to work." Despite her continuing protests he pulled her firmly towards the bathroom's door. "They'll do everything they can to help him. I promise. The best we can do is stay out of the way."
Laura wanted to argue. Because she wanted to be close. Needed to…
Laura had no idea how she ended up sitting at the kitchen table. There was a mug of what smelled like vanilla tea in front of her. She had no intention of touching it. She swallowed convulsively when her gaze fell on her blood-soaked hands. They were trembling, still feeling like they were holding Clint's very life.
"You must be Laura. I've… heard a lot about you, since I told Clint that I know he's found someone." Despite obvious exhaustion and worry that was visible through his mask of professionalism it the man smiled. "I'm Coulson. Phil."
"Oh." Laura blinked. Then looked away, a little embarrassed by how she sounded. "Sorry. I just… I was expecting someone… older. And more intimidating."
To her relief Phil smiled, clearly not offended.
They both tensed up and looked towards the bathroom when there was commotion. Laura grabbed and held on to the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The desire to run there…
"I'm sorry that you had to get involved like this. There… was a mission involving corrupted cops. One of them got away. That's why he couldn't go to a hospital. So… He chose to trust you."
Laura nodded, trying to convince her buzzing head into processing the information. She was fairly sure that she wasn't supposed to hear that much. But it was good to understand what was going on.
She felt Phil's eyes on her. He was silent for a while before continuing quietly. "You know… I'm glad that he finally has someone like you."
Laura gave him a wry smile. With the adrenaline and fight draining from her, she wanted to sob and laugh hysterically. "You mean someone to patch up that idiot every time he gets into these messes?"
Phil chuckled. There was little humor in the sound. "That, too. And someone for him to fight for." The man took a sip of tea and winced at the taste. "This… is just…" The agent trailed off.
"I think it expired six months ago."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Silence lingered for a long time, heavy but not uncomfortable. Once again Phil broke it. "You know… I did wonder what kind of a woman he found." The agent gave her a small, soft smile. "This, you and him… It makes sense."
"I'm… not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted."
They were tense and dead-tired. Which was why neither could help it. They burst into fits of hysterical chuckles. Laura chose to blame the moisture that gathered into her eyes on laughter.
It was a long, horrible night.
"Hey, Phil?" She raised her mug although she wasn't planning on touching the substance. "It's… It's good to finally meet you. You were starting to feel like some sort of a myth."
Phil grinned and raised his mug in return. This time he was smart enough to not take a sip. "It's good to meet you, too."
It was a long, horrible night – but at least they didn't have to face it alone.
By the time morning dawned Laura's bedroom looked like a miniature hospital. She stood by the doorway and stared, wondering if it was all real. The machinery… Clint lay in her bed…
It was terrifying how frail someone so strong could seem.
Aside a nurse and a doctor who'd taken the morning shift the medical team had left. Phil remained and soon stood beside her. "In case you're worried… As far as the medical team knows you're just a Good Samaritan who chose to help."
Laura nodded. In full honesty, at the moment her relationship with Clint being exposed was something that barely crossed her mind. "How is he?"
Phil sighed, or perhaps rather yawned. "Stable, at least for now. If he stays that way for a day or so we can relax a bit. Assuming that there won't be any infections or other complications."
Laura nodded. She felt oddly numb. None of this seemed real to her sleep deprived mind.
Phil's phone buzzed. The agent swore under his breath. "I've gotta go. Fury wants a debrief." The man shifted with discomfort, his reluctance to leave almost palpable. "You'll… let me know if anything changes, right?"
He seemed so uncomfortable and vulnerable that she fought the urge to give his hand a comforting squeeze. Instead she smiled the best as she could. "I will." She went on when he was almost out of earshot. "And, since he can't tell you yet… None of this was your fault."
"How can you know that?"
"Because he trusts you. Probably more than anyone in this world." She looked at the unconscious man and wished that she could've… "He wouldn't trust someone who doesn't do everything possible to ensure that he's safe during missions, every time. Besides… I don't think he needs you to get himself into a trouble."
Phil stood frozen for a second or two. Then took his leave. "I'll stop by later."
"With coffee?"
"That's expired, too?" Phil groaned. "Remind me to never eat or drink anything when I visit you two."
'You two.' Laura mulled over those seemingly simple words. Tried to imagine what could be, if…
Well. Silly, childish daydreams could wait. Weddings, kids… For now she'd focus on making sure that Clint would survive and they'd get to have date number six. She told herself that for now that was enough.
The stench of his blood refused to leave her nose even when she sat down beside him and held his hand almost painfully tightly.
Clint defied all expectations and started waking up when that evening darkened to a night. Laura herself was nearly dozing off on her chair when she caught the slightest bit of movement. Despite the fact that she hadn't slept in about two days she was instantly on full alert. Her heart fluttered with dangerous hope.
"Clint?" Her voice quivered. She didn't care. "Can you… Can you hear me?"
"Hmh." His eyes opened a little and peered around. What looked like a smirk appeared to his face. "Your bedroom again?"
"Yeah", she confirmed dryly. "Because you seem to imagine that this is some sort of a hospital." That was cruel, perhaps.
The guilt flooding into Clint's eyes made her regret her words instantly. He shifted with discomfort, avoiding her eyes. "Laura, I'm sorry…"
Laura couldn't bear to hear the rest. Instead she sealed him into a searing kiss that his injuries quite possible wouldn't have allowed. "Shut up, Barton", she breathed against his lips when they broke apart. Never once letting of his hand. "Just… Just come back, every time. Always come back to me. That's enough."
Of course they both knew, on a level of reason, that there was no way Clint could swear that. But still… She chose to take his lips on hers as a promise, because she had to.
He came home. He was still fighting. And as long as he'd keep fighting so would she, with tooth and nail, for them both.
Because as new as their relationship was, she realized that they were already in this insanity together. And when Laura embraced Clint and kissed the top of his head she couldn't imagine ever wanting it any other way. No matter how much it hurt sometimes.
End of chapter
A/N: Aaaaw! So devoted to each other from quite early stages. (smiles) BUT, fate will continue to slam them hard… (winces)
SOOOO… ANY good, AT ALL? Would you like to read a few more chapters? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd love to hear from you.
In any case, THANK YOU so much for reading!
Awkay, I have to get some sleep. Who knows. Maybe I'll see you guys again later.
Take care!