It had been the middle of the night when they'd gotten to the hospital, and both of them had fallen asleep very quickly.
It had been years since they'd had a real bed, and even a hospital bed was more comfortable than their blankets on the floor.
At about seven in the morning, the hospital started to get busier.
Someone came in, pushing a trolley, asking if Natasha wanted a hot drink and some food.
The redhead paused for a minute, nervous energy radiating off her.
She badly wanted some food, but they'd have to pay more for that later on, right?
"We're leaving before they can even think about charging us. Eat." Clint murmured against her ear.
Natasha nodded and asked for a number of things. Cereal, toast, tea.
The woman was older and friendly and she made two teas, winking at Clint as put down two lots of the food too.
"I get the feeling you won't be leaving to get yourself some food, and technically I shouldn't give you some as well."
"I won't tell if you don't." Clint grinned that bright charming smile of his. "Thank you."
Once she'd left, the pair devoured the food without pausing for breath.
Any meals they got, they'd all shared and it didn't go very far with six very hungry teenagers.
This was a rare treat and one they couldn't turn down.
Once full, cradling their hot drinks, Natasha leaned into Clint.
She still looked exhausted, but her breathing wasn't rattling quite as much.
"How're you feeling, Nat?"
"Okay. I could probably leave now." She shrugged.
"Um, no you couldn't. You need to stay here and get at least a days worth of the medicine. It'll just be worse if we run now and then need to come back later if you get worse."
"I know." She sighed, closing her eyes. "I hate it here."
"Agreed." He murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "We won't be here long. You just rest, eat all the food they give you, feel better. Then we leave."
There was a knock on the door and they halted speaking right away, wary eyes on the figure at the door.
Natasha was instantly on high alert, narrowed gaze watching the woman.
Clint smiled. "This is Bobbi. She was one of the paramedics that helped you."
Still wary, Natasha nodded her head. "Hi."
"Its nice to see you awake. I had a quick talk with your brother after we dropped you off. I said I'd be checking in."
"Okay..." the redhead shrugged, walls completely up and guarded.
She always was with anyone other than the five boys.
"How are you feeling?" The blonde stepped into the room.
She couldn't have been much older than them.
"Good. Fine." She said quietly.
Bobbi nodded, clearing her throat. "Good. That's good. So..."
Uh oh.
"I was starting to wonder why I felt drawn to you." She pointed at Clint. "And then I realised I went to school with you."
Shit.
"Uh...I've been told I have one of those faces. It wasn't me. I didn't live round here till a few months ago."
"Neither did I." She said softly, eyes soft.
"You see, I lived in Iowa. And I knew your brother. Well, through friends I knew him. Don't think I ever said more than a word to him. Anyway, Barney was my age. And you...well you were three years below us." She took another step forward.
Natasha was coiled tightly, ready to hit the girl and run out and never look back.
Clint just swallowed, head bobbing. "I see."
"So that means you're only sixteen. Can you see where I'm going with this?"
"That...you're going to go to the police. But the thing is, you didn't know Barney, and you don't know me. We will run and you will never find us." He shook his head and climbed from the bed.
"I'm not going to the police. I told you before that I understood. And I do. There's a reason you're not at home, a reason you're running and hiding and lying. I'm not going to pry into that." She said softly.
"Look, I just want to know you're okay and not about to bolt. Your..."
"Best friend." Clint said weakly.
"Well she needs medical care. She needs to stay here. But thing is...I know you guys aren't going to be able to pay the bills. And I know you won't go home."
She glanced between the pair, nervously fiddling in her pocket.
"I have...some numbers for you. You have a phone because you called the ambulance. I don't care how you got it. Keep it. My number is here and...this man helped me a lot in the past. I'm sure he could help you too. His name is Phil. He's not police, but he can help." She handed Clint the scrap of paper.
"Consider it. I can answer any questions you have. And please don't bolt. I'm not going to tell anyone." She nodded at them.
"Feel better..."
"Natasha." The girl whispered.
"Natasha. Just think about it."
She smiled weakly and then left.
Natasha immediately burst into a fit of coughs, wincing as it pulled her chest.
"Easy, Nat, deep breaths. I've got you." Clint murmured, stroking back stray strands of red.
"Who the hell is that woman?" She asked once she'd recovered.
"I...don't remember ever seeing her. There were a lot of kids."
"Do you think she's telling the truth?"
"Well..." he swallowed. "She knew Barney's name so...that wasn't a stab in the dark."
She still didn't know the whole story there.
"What do we do?"
"You rest. I'll figure it out." He said softly, kissing her temple.
"We always figure it out."