Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or tech. Unfortunately
Natasha stopped short in the doorway of Clint's room. He lay still and barely conscious in the hospital bed. To her Clint was always the strong one in their relationship, he was the one who would hold her when she was hurt, even if he was hurting worse.
But this…this…..this was new to her. She walked in quietly and put one of her hands over Clint's, the one that didn't have an IV needle in it.
In the doorway, Fury quietly asked the doctor 'what's his status?'
The doctor sighed, hesitated and said 'he's getting worse by the hour.' Glancing down at a thin report in his hands,
'Agent Barton's fever has risen from 100.5 to 102.3 in less than two hours.'
'What does this mean?' asked Rogers, looking at where Natasha stood, resting one hand on Barton's forehead.
'We have him on several different treatments and he is starting to show slight reactions to them. But nothing too firm yet.'
(24 hours later)
Natasha barely glanced up from the papers she was holding on her lap when she heard Steve say
'Natasha, its not your fault.'
'What do you want?' she responded dully, 'I should've known…..I should've stopped this before it happened, I-'
'Romanoff, there was nothing you could've done! Yellow fever doesn't show any signs for three days at least. You couldn't have known. Barton's lucky you got him here soon enough.'
Looking at Clint lying there in the bed still and suffering from fever, Natasha found it hard to believe that he was actually lucky.
'The symptoms should go away after about 3-4 days.' Steve said 'Then-
Natasha looked up 'Then what?'
Steve hesitated, 'Then, then the subject either lives or, or….dies.'
Sorry for this chapter being so short, it was all I could manage! I will have more up next week!