OK, hope you caught the Renner reference in the last chapter. When I watched the movie, my first thought was there was no way Stark would let his tech not work and could teach Benji a thing or two. There's also a part of a scene paying homage to another one of my favorite movies. Let me know if you catch it!
****THIS IS A WARNING FOR THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS**** They will deal with a sensitive health subject that has affected almost everyone, including the writer. The experience and emotions detailed in the next several chapters were compiled from personal experience, conversations with others, and research. Everyone responds differently, the descriptions in the story are just how the characters spoke to me. If you would like details without reading please PM me and I'll be happy to give a synopsis. Also, I'm very open to what I've been through and am happy to share my experience in the hopes they can help others. Don't worry, there will be many moments of levity...this is Fitzbarton we're talking about...hey, look, they have a ship name now!
He settled down and just as he drifted off, Mikayla started squirming. Clint thought she was trying to get comfortable, so he scooted away from her to give her more room. Mikayla then started sobbing, so he moved back and tried to hold her. Her sobbing turned into a full crying jag. She started yelling, "It's not fair, not fair!" As she yelled, she began pounding the air with clenched fists and eventually started pounding his chest, continually screaming about how it wasn't fair. Eventually, she seemed to tire herself out and went back to sobbing, whispering her mantra of the night, "It's not fair."
Clint held her close and rubbed her back but that didn't seem to calm her, so he took his index and middle fingers and rubbed them in circles on her temples, softly whispering, "Mikayla, I'm here. Shhh, it's okay, I've got you." The door opened slightly, and Natasha stuck her head in. "Bad dream, nightmare, or something." Natasha nodded, came in, and poured two glasses of water, setting them on the bedside table. Clint nodded his thanks.
"I'll be in the living room," Nat whispered. "Whatever it is, we'll get her through it. Oh, I disabled Friday so no one else knows about this." She shut the door behind her.
Clint thanked his lucky stars his partner was so intuitive. He wouldn't have thought to disable the AI. Of course, to be fair, he didn't think he had the technical skills to do it. His solution was going to be shooting the cameras out with an arrow. He looked down at Mikayla. The crying was down to sniffling and a few sobs escaping from her lips. He wiped away the remaining tears with his thumbs, then began stroking her hair. About 30 minutes later, Mikayla started squirming again. Clint moved to grab her arms so she wouldn't hit him again, but she woke up. "Hey," she said sleepily and sat up. She looked over at him. "What happened to your eye? I don't remember that being there when I went to sleep." He had a small bruise beginning to form.
"How are you?" Clint asked softly.
"Uh, okay, a little sleepy. Why?"
He took a deep breath. "You remember having a nightmare, a bad dream?"
Mikayla rubbed her eyes to give herself time to think. "I remember dreaming about the wedding…and my uncle…oh, no!" Her hand flew up to her mouth when she realized how he got the bruise. "Clint, I am so sorry I hit you!" She put her head on his shoulder and started sobbing again.
Clint lifted her head. "Babe, it's okay. Can't control what you do in your sleep, okay?" She nodded. "Do you remember what the dream was about?"
"New ghost," she sighed. "My uncle. I was in a room with a bunch of other brides. I looked around and it hit me. He won't be there for the most important day of my life. All the other brides were talking about who was walking them down the aisle. I don't have anyone to do that. I'd like to do something traditional in my life. Of course, all the other brides were cute young things in their 20's. Then there's me, in my 30's, no father, no uncle, no family, that's about as non-traditional as you get. I guess I was feeling self-conscious, feeling sorry for myself." She leaned back against the headboard.
Clint took her hands and held them in his. He wasn't good at this feeling stuff but forged ahead anyway. "I know what I was like in my 20's, and there was no way I would've been ready for marriage then, and I haven't had any family in years. I'm not counting my asswipe of a brother who's recently returned as family. As for traditional, I'm so far from that it's not even funny. That has never been a word used to describe me…and I'm okay with that. Traditional translates to boring."
"And boring you are not." She smiled. "I think I've said that about you before."
He grinned. "You did. Where do you think I got it from? We both have a new family now, and I'm sure if you ask Fury, he'd be proud to walk you down the aisle. Even if he's not, that won't stop me from marrying you. I fell in love with you of today, not you of your 20's. I'm sure neither one of us are the same people now we were then. Who knows what would've happened if we would've met at that time? All I know is, I'm glad we met when we did.
"Me, too." She touched his eye. "I'm sorry. Does it hurt?"
"Nah, I've been hurt worse by Nat during sparring sessions." She leaned in and kissed his eyebrow, then his cheekbone. "Well, maybe it did sting a little." She kissed the same area again.
"Anywhere else?"
"Well, I did hit my ear with the bowstring." She kissed his left ear. "You also hit me in the chest with your fist, wouldn't want that to bruise." She took off his shirt and trailed kisses across his broad chest. He took her hand and kissed it. "I'm guessing it hurt your hand when you punched me." She nodded. "Now, I'll ask you, anywhere else?"
"If there's any way you can get rid of my bad dreams, that would help."
"I think I can arrange something." He picked her up and drew her into his lap and began massaging her temples again as he brushed her lips with his. Clint then ran his fingers through her hair to the back of her head, keeping his face close to hers. Her hands roamed over his chest where she had hit him, then they traveled to his back, raking her nails along the way.
"Clint," she whispered, "you need to rest. Your debriefing, remember?"
"Shhh, right now I need you." He removed the rest of his clothing then took hers off and they spent time showing how much they needed each other. Later, resting in each other's arms, Clint stroked her hair and Mikayla trailed her nails up and down his arm. "How's the ghost?"
"What ghost?" Mikayla responded. "How's your eye?"
"Gives me character."
"Like you need more of that, RH."
He chuckled. "You're probably right." He looked at the clock. "Almost 5."
"Hold on," Mikayla said, putting her clothes back on, went over and turned off the alarm clock. She quickly logged into her computer, sending an email to her IT lead Amy, letting her know she'd be working from her suite. Once that was done, she went back to bed and into Clint's waiting arms. "I hate that alarm. If it were next to my bed, I'd probably break it and have to get a new one every day."
"You notice I do the same thing. I have a reputation of smashing them on a – Mikayla, what's wrong?" She suddenly doubled over in pain and started to moan. "What's going on? Did I hurt you? What happened?"
She violently shook her head. "Cramps," she hissed. "Damn it!" She started panting in short breaths. "Need…heating…pad."
He threw his boxers back on, went to her bathroom, and tried to find it. "Where is it?"
"Dresser!" she screamed in between breaths.
He went through the drawers and finally found it. He came back, plugged it in, and held it over her abdomen. "Helping?"
Tears were running down her face and she was biting her tongue so hard she swore it would start bleeding. "Not yet," she hissed.
"Be right back." He hurried to the living room and found Natasha. "Where are your pain pills you never take?" The ones in his room had expired months earlier.
"Medicine cabinet, why? The eye must be hurting for you to take pills, Barton."
"Not me. Mikayla."
"That was some nightmare she had."
They ran to Nat's bathroom and she came back with the bottle. "Not a nightmare, cramps."
"I'll come with you." She grabbed a couple of pillows to bring along. The pair made their way back to Mikayla's room, where she was writhing and moaning in pain.
Clint hurriedly opened the bottle and dumped a couple of pills into his hand. "Here," he gave them to Mikayla and handed her a glass of water to down the pills. She grabbed the pills and tossed them into her mouth, following them up with a gulp of water, then returned to holding her abdomen. Nat took the pillows she brought and placed one in between Mikayla's knees and the other one against her back. Clint helped Mikayla hold the heating pad over her abdomen.
"Guessing you haven't had to deal with this yet in your relationship?" Nat asked as she held the heating pad and instructed Clint to massage Mikayla's lower back.
He shook his head. "Not yet. Should we get Bruce?"
"No," Mikayla whispered. "I'm used to it, nothing he can do." They noticed she'd stopped writhing and was just slowly rocking back and forth. Her breathing was less labored. "Dealt…with it…all my…life. Should've…warned you." They noticed she'd stopped biting her lip. The pain pills were taking effect.
"What else can we do?" Clint asked, feeling utterly helpless. He was used to dealing with scrapes, cuts, bruises, gunshot wounds, and stitches, but this was foreign to him.
"Nothing…. Oww!" She doubled over again. "Damn cysts!" She screamed in pain.
"Friday, get Banner in here!"
"At once, Mr. Barton."
Mikayla violently shook her head. "No! I don't need – damn it!" She screamed again as the pain shot through her.
Bruce came running into the room. "What happened?"
"She started complaining about cramps, then screamed something about cysts."
"Friday, call Maria Hill!"
"On it, Dr. Banner."
Bruce leaned down to Mikayla. "Mikayla, I'm here."
She was curled in a fetal position and rocking back and forth. Clint gave up trying to hold the heating pad and was sitting on the bed holding her as she rocked. Natasha backed away once Bruce arrived.
"Dr. Banner, it's Hill," Maria's voice broadcasted over the intercom.
"Can you give me Mikayla's health history?"
"What happened?"
"Severe cramps and complaining about cysts."
They could hear papers rustling as Maria rifled through them. "Here it is…PCOS. How is she?"
"In severe pain, I'm guessing due to ruptured cysts. Thanks."
"Keep me posted."
"Doc," Natasha interrupted, "she's bleeding." Bruce looked down and saw blood staining the sheets. "Friday, call 911." He turned to the others. "Our med bay is not equipped to handle this."