THIS IS REALLY SHORT. IT'S RUSHED. I APOLOGIZE.

THANK YOU, YOU HAVE HELPED ME REACH OVER 2000 VIEWS, AND THAT IS HUGE!

MIND BLOWING

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Tick... Tick... Tick... Natasha sat on the waiting couch waiting nervously, staring at the clock, growing more scared each moment. She had watched the second hand make a full trip for what seemed like a million times. She was wiggling his left leg uncontrollably and she kept wringing her hands and fingers, not even aware she was doing it. It had been five hours since it happened. Five crucially long hours. Tick... Tick... Tick...

There was not much to think about, it had all happened so fast. One moment Clint was fine, just chatting to them, and the next moment gunshots were being fired through the air, and there was a bullet through his chest, right above his heart. Luckily, it wasn't on his heart, otherwise...

She stopped herself from thinking of what might have happened had he been sitting differently. Natasha bit her lip, and closed her eyes, forcing herself to imagine being away from here. She hated hospitals.

She remembered how Nick had grabbed his guns and shot the intruder, who had gotten a lucky shot from hanging on the window, but he... Or she, was already gone. They could only hope that whoever did this got a wound.

Tick... Tick... Tick... Fury paced back and forth, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Maria had to force herself not to cry. Pepper's hand had shot straight to her mouth, and she tried to blink the tears out of her eyes, as she comforted the kids. They two women agreed to take the little Avengers, so Natasha and Fury were to only two in the waiting room. Five hours. Tick... Tick... Tick...

The door to the waiting room slowly opened and a doctor stepped through. He was an older man, an experienced doctor. He had sky blue eyes that told you everyday he saw patients in a life or death situation. Slowly he let his face mask slip off. He had a salt and pepper mustache and the same hair peeking out from his head covering.

When the two saw him, the air changed from nervous to anxious and the room was filled with a sliver of hope and a feeling of dread. He gave the two a kind smile and walked over to them.

"Mr. Fury, and Ms. Rushman, I assume," He started and Natasha's tongue darted out nervously to wet her chapped lips.

Rushman. An alias last name, because they couldn't go marching in proclaiming that she was Black Widow. She looked up and nodded at the doctor at last.
"I'm Dr. Williams," He said, shaking Fury's hand. Natasha stayed still, and turned her head, avoiding his hand. All she could think about was Clint.

Fury didn't mention this, and he ignored Natasha's anti-social behaviour. "Is Clint alright?" He asked, with a small scowl.

"He's stable, but he's in critical condition." The doctor answered.

Natasha turned to look at the doctor. Her mouth was extremely dry, and in the mirror behind the doctor, she saw herself, cheekbones slightly sunken in, black bags under her eyes. But she ignored this, and asked, "So he's alive?" She made the end sound more like a statement than a question, because she didn't want it to be a question.

"For now, yes," Dr. William's answered. "The bullet flew straight through, grazing his heart. He's a strong one, otherwise he might not have made it to the hospital. We tried to fix him up the best we could, but he did lose quite a lot of blood."

Natasha winced and quickly turned away. She chewed her lip furiously, blood leaking out. Clint can't die, she scolded herself, he's Clint! If he dies... Again, she forced herself to stop thinking.

"Can we see him?" Fury asked quietly and slowly without swearing.

"He's just coming out of surgery, but I'll bring you to his room, and you can wait for him there." The doctor answered.

The Avengers-mostly Tony-arranged for their unlimited visting hours and private room as soon as Clint had gotten there. Natasha didn't even want to be in this hopsital, and she wondered why they couldn't just help him in the Helicarrier or whatnot, but SHIELD had claimed it was beyond their doctor's powers. Natasha had yelled You guys are doctors, how the hell can these guys help them, but you can't! and Fury had to calm her from attacking them.

Natasha and Fury waited in silence, until Clint was wheeled in. A bunch of tubes were sticking in and out of them; and he couldn't even breathe on his own, a big plastic tube was in his mouth doing it for him. This disturbed Natasha extremely. This did not look like her Clint.

"Well I'm not gonna say he's completely outta the woods yet," Fury muttered, "But this little bitch is a strong one, and he'll be okay." He put a hand on Natasha's shoulder gently.

"Please don't call him that," She said, not angrily, but quietly. "And please don't say it like you're doubting it. Clint will be fine. He won't die. He will live. And he will beat up Tony for creating that time capsule."

Fury almost chuckled. Almost. He scowled again, and started backing out of the room. "You stay here. I gotta meet with the rest of SHIELD. See how Tony and Bruce are intending on fixing the time capsule."

"Yeah. You do that," Natasha replied bitterly, as Fury left. She pulled out a chair, say down beside him, and picked up his hand from where it was lying beside him. She held Clint's hand to her cheek, and felt that his hand was as cool as marble.

Closing her eyes, she cried silently to herself, a foreign action she's never done, and she didn't even realize that she had fallen asleep.

Waking up the next morning was impossibly devastating and exhausting for Natasha. She couldn't believe she'd slept through all that in the first place.
Nobody could get her to eat.

Maria came to visit her, bringing coffee and a couple of sandwiches, but Natasha didn't move at all, sitting absolutely still.

"Well, it's just like everyday, huh?" Maria said, glancing around the empty room, "You in a place full of groaning and hurt people." Maria was only trying to make her feel better with a small joke, but Natasha didn't have the stomach, or heart, to laugh.

"Hah." Natasha muttered, clutching the cup of coffee so tight that the styrofoam started screeching.

"The kids are doing fine," Maria reported, "Bruce and Tony aren't exactly as smart as they used to be, but they're working on it."

"Good." Natasha says, closing her eyes, looking almost peaceful for a second.

Maria forced a wary smile onto her face. "Clint will be fine, he's Clint. The guy can handle everything!"

Natasha could only grunt in response. Maria left shortly afterwards, due to lack of conversation starters.

More coming soon, and this time, I promise.

LOVE YOU!