CLINTASHA ACTIVATE! this chapter is so cute!
There was a weight on his chest, a soft crying voice and a strange hissing noise in the background, Clint slowly emerged from sedation and groaned, the pain in his right shoulder was refusing to subside.
His chest rose and fell slowly, with hardly any strength left.
Clint slowly became more aware of his surroundings. Natasha was lying on his chest, as if shielding him, and was quietly sobbing.
Clint took a deep shaky breath, allowing oxygen to fill his lungs.
Suddenly the crying stopped, "Clint?" She said the name as if had belonged to something she had lost a long time ago.
Clint tried to open his eyes but they slipped shut again. "Clint?" She repeated, life fluttering back into her tone. "Hold on, Clint, hold on."
She took hold of the bandage and tore it off with her good arm. "Hold on... Just hold on..." He could hear her murmuring.
'I will' he wanted to reply, but he didn't have the energy to move his lips. He only had the energy to react to the pain, grimacing, even though he tried to conceal it. And what was that hissing?
She had to get the bullet out first. Both she and Clint were trained first aiders and had, had plenty of practice with it, but where Natasha had been calm on other missions, where others had gotten hurt, she wasn't calm now. She seemed flustered, desperate even.
After a few minutes of poorly concealed agony, Clint heard the faint clatter of the bullet from when Natasha had thrown it away disgusted, but for some reason he could deal with this pain easier. He knew Natasha wasn't hurting him on purpose and somehow that made it not hurt as much.
Clint heard something tear and felt it being pressed onto his wound. He groaned in pain and heard an apology from Natasha who was now tying the new 'bandage' onto the wound, properly this time, sealing it so that no more blood would escape.
Natasha say back for a moment to assess whether the bandage was sealed properly.
Clint felt something wet fall onto his hand and assumed tears were still silently falling from Natasha's eyes.
Clint suddenly felt cold. Icy chills were sent down into his bones. He shivered. "Clint?" Natasha's tone was worried as he shivered again.
Clint heard her moving over to his other side so that she was at the opposite side to his injured shoulder. She placed a warm hand on his forehead. His body was heating up now, ferocious heat was pulsing through his body.
Great, he thought, now I've got a fever.
"Clint, your burning up." Natasha's voice was laced with worry and a touch of fear.
Clint wished he had the strength to move, had the strength to talk. Something, so Natasha would know he was listening and that she was not just talking to nobody.
There was nothing you could really do with a fever but endure it. They both knew this so Natasha sat back and sighed, wiping tears away from her face.
Clint felt her head rest on his good shoulder as she cuddled up to his feverish body, placing a hand on his chest. He wished he could put his arm around her but he was still too weak to move and so he just let him self relax, well he relaxed as much as was possible with a shot in his shoulder, a raging fever and a soft hissing that wasn't going away.
They stayed like that for a while, Natasha whispering soft, and what he thought to be Russian, words in his ear, Clint listening all the while even though he didn't understand.