Authors Note: WOW! Huge thanks to everyone who has added this to your favourites, or following and those who reviewed - Lollypops101, DucksFan1510, Anise Nadiah, Qweb, Sandy-wmd, xxnuttynicxx, sammygirl1963, magicshadow1, kimbee and guest. You are all awesome. Cookies and virtual hugs to all!
Please note that I have no medical knowledge (never broken a bone) and that the details of Clint's injuries are with the help of Google search lol
Enjoy!
Three hours had past, and now Phil sat cradling his head in his hands, wondering how his son was doing, how this had happened. Luck just didn't seem to be their thing. The double doors to the waiting room burst open and Coulson found himself sitting up straighter after seeing his boss, Sam and Molly hurrying towards him.
"What the hell happened?" Nick barked, his good eye flicking toward Phil then at the doors to the left leading to surgery. The director felt incredibly bad when he noticed the younger man paled and visibly flinched at his sharp tone. Speaking in a calmer voice, Fury repeated the question. "What happened, Phil?"
The normally stoic agent's face was a myriad of emotions; fear, anger, sadness and pain, all fought for control. A few tears leaked out, causing Phil to wipe them away angrily. He stared into his boss's eye with an intensity that almost had Nick taking a step back. The terror of not knowing what was happening was making it worse for the agent. Fury nodded to Sam to go find out what he could. The medic gave a grim nod and strode through the double doors to the surgery. The young medic was determined to come back with news; he hoped it was good news.
Molly slapped Nick's arm in annoyance, walking past to sit at the worried father's side. The director had the decency to look ashamed at his outburst, he hadn't meant to make things worse. He was just worried, they all were. Reaching out, Fury squeezed Phil's shoulder in an unusual show of comfort, passing on a measure of strength to his friend. Nick felt they spent far too many hours occupying hospital chairs where the kid was concerned. He'd need to look into something that would keep the teen from harm, however impossible he knew that would be. The boy was a trouble magnet. If he had to wrap Barton in bubble wrap, then that's exactly what he'd do. R and D just inherited a new project.
"Have you heard anything Phil?" Molly asked while squeezing the agent's hand, telling him without words that they were there for him.
Coulson returned the gesture, then he leaned backwards in the uncomfortable plastic chair letting his head fall against the wall with a soft thump. He closed his eyes and blew out a deep measured breath, willing the helplessness he was feeling to disappear. Once he felt a little more in control, Phil opened his eyes and glanced at Molly then Nick who towered over him.
Shaking his head in answer, the worried father suddenly shot up from the chair, running a hand through his short hair in a nervous fashion. He remembered saying to Clint after his fourteenth birthday that he found a grey hair and was blaming the kid for it. All the worry, the fear he felt because of the trouble his boy got into was going to be the death of him, or at the very least the cause of a full head of white hair by the time he reached forty.
Phil attempted to pull himself together enough to tell his boss and Molly what he'd heard spoken in the rush through the corridors on the way to surgery. The agent had already spoken to Nick, managing to pass on only the basics of what happened; accident, Clint hurt, and hospital before his voice cracked with the emotional pressure threatening to send the father to his knees in a heap of anguish. "All I know is that he has a concussion, and they think he might have a broken leg but were going to have to get x-rays to be sure. He was still pretty out of it when he came to before they moved him to the ambulance." Nobody said anything about the distinct tremor they heard from the usually calm and collected agent. Coulson fought to employ his calm agent demeanour and distance himself from the fact that this wasn't a mission, but his own kid. He failed miserably, the tremor when he spoke and the tears glistening in his eyes, told his friends that he was barely keeping it together.
Nick leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and his good eye focused on the door in front of them, waiting for any word on how his godson was doing. Fury had to be strong for Phil, the other man needed an anchor to keep himself from sinking into a pit of despair, and even though Nick kept his face carefully blank, inside he was screaming at the heavens for being so unfair. How dare they put them in this position again? How many times was Phil going to be sitting in these uncomfortable plastic chairs? Deep down the director knew the answer because Clint was a kid that always put others first and would always be willing to put himself in dangerous situations to help someone. Just like today.
Molly would never be able to wrap her head around the amount of things that had happened to this kid in his young life. She wasn't sure if Clint was incredibly lucky that he always seemed to pull through or that he was just very unlucky that all this bad stuff kept happening to him. She wanted to walk through there and demand to know what was going on, if only to ease the suffering of the trembling father next to her. Molly knew what she was like if anything happened to her kids, so she understood what Phil was going through right now. She squeezed his hand again, giving him her support.
Phil smiled sadly and stared down at her hand clasping his. He knew they were just as worried as he was. The agent couldn't even begin to start reigning in his erratic emotions until he saw his boy and made sure he was okay. He just hoped Sam came back with news soon.
It was almost an hour later when the doors they sat staring at swung open and Sam marched out towards him. Coulson shot out of the chair towards the medic, his legs felt like they had turned to jelly at the serious expression he saw. Noticing the small smile spreading across the younger man's face Phil felt himself relax, ever so slightly.
"How is he?" Phil demanded, suddenly annoyed that Sam wasn't speaking faster.
The young medic stopped in front of Phil, placing his hands on the agent's shoulders. "He's going to be fine Phil. The doctor is on his way out, they're just getting Clint ready to move to the recovery ward." He paused, looking between the three worried faces. "Do you want to wait until the doctor arrives?"
The looks he received told him he shouldn't have bothered asking. He forged on. "Clint has a grade three concussion, they've already run a CT scan and ruled out any serious brain injury. This is good, but they will have to monitor him for the next twenty four to seventy two hours. Phil, you said he was a little dazed when he came around at first?"
Coulson nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat remembering the terrified look Clint had given him when the kid realised he was being held down. Phil knew how much his boy hated the feeling of being restrained, having his control taken away from him. He shook his head to dispel the images and stared at Sam expectantly, waiting for him to continue.
"Once they got him x-rayed they noticed he has a closed Tibial fracture. This happens when the bone hasn't broken the skin but there is a lot of bruising and swelling. He will have it put in a cast and it could take at least twelve weeks for it to heal properly but it will heal. He also has some bruised ribs." He watched as each of them absorbed the information, seeing the relief in their eyes that they knew Clint was going to be alright.
The doctor appeared minutes later, introducing himself as Doctor Finlay and took them through all the medical jargon that made Phil glad that Sam had just explained everything. They were then shown to his son's room where the Doctor informed them that they could stay for a few minutes as the visiting hours were officially over. The glare that Phil, Nick and Molly gave the doctor had him averting his gaze and telling them to take as long as they needed.
Fury followed after Doctor Finlay to tell him that as soon as it was possible, Clint would be getting transferred to a private medical facility for Sam to take over the teen's care. The director trusted the young medic with his life and more importantly, both he and Coulson trusted Sam with Clint's. That made the decision to move Barton an easy one, the kid would get the best care possible back at the base. Heading back to the room the director paused outside the door, watching with a smile as Phil had Clint's hand grasped in his own and was speaking softly to his son, telling him he was there and everything would be alright. Molly sat in the chair opposite, tears glistening in her eyes as she took in the multitude of wires Barton was hooked up to. He looked so small lying there, so vulnerable and young with dark bruises peeking out from under the crisp white bandages. Nick spotted the butterfly stitches on the side of the teen's head, and it wasn't hard to notice the pristine white cast on the kid's left leg.
What a way for Barton to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. Although Nick knew it could have been so much worse. He was pleased the kid would pull through this, and knew deep down that he'd probably come out stronger because of it. The teen had a way of beating the odds. It also helped that he had a loving family to look after him now.