Clint comes home.
And from the look on his face, he had one hell of a tough couple weeks. Whatever heroic acts he's been performing for S.H.I.E.L.D have left him pale and hollow eyed. Laura greets him with a hug, letting him hold her until the shaking stops and he feels like he can be more himself around the kids, not wanting to scare them.
She let's them crawl over their father for an hour and then sends them off to go play, taking Clint's hand and leading him upstairs to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them and cupping his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his. "I've got you." She whispers to him. "You're home, and you're safe, and I've got you."
"I'm home and I'm safe." Clint whispers back, hands coming up to touch the back of Laura's.
"That's right." Laura nods, then touches her lips to his, just the barest of contact. "I want you to get undressed and sit on your pillow while I run you a bath."
"Yes ma'am." Clint gives her hands a squeeze before he pulls away, undressing in an efficient manner and putting his clothes in the laundry basket before he moves to kneel down on the pillow in the corner of the room.
The pillow might be more of a re purposed dog bed, but it's also Clint's safe place, somewhere he can work through what he needs to on his own, with his Laura a few feet away if he needs her. The room is dark and warm, the only light slivering in through the half closed bathroom door and Clint slowly relaxes. He's safe. He's home. He lets himself drift a little, until he hears his name and opens his eyes to see Laura standing in front of him.
"Can I touch you?" Her voice is soft, but firm and Clint nods. "I need to hear your voice, sweetheart."
"Yes, ma'am. You can touch me."
"Thank you." Laura moves to kneel beside him, settling a hand on his shoulder, the other brushes over his hair, helping to settle him, ground him. "Your bath is ready."
"Yes ma'am." He nods and gets to his feet. Laura smiles at him and takes his hand, leading him into the bathroom and helping him into the tub.
The water is hot enough to burn and Clint hisses as he sinks down into it, laying back against the sloped surface of the soaking tub and letting the water, loaded with Epsom salts, work their magic on his sore muscles.
Laura kisses his head and leaves him to soak, coming back in ten minutes with a glass of milk, two Tylenol-3's, and a plate with buttered toast. Mild food so the painkillers won't upset his stomach.
She sits on the low chair beside the tub, tearing the toast into bite sized pieces and feeding them to Clint. Once the toast is gone, he drinks half the glass of milk, then takes the painkillers and finishes the rest of the milk.
"I'm proud of you for finishing all your food and taking your pain medication." Laura tells him, and sets the glassware aside before she gently takes out his ears, putting the hearing aids in their case and setting them on the counter.
There's a jug under the sink, and Laura grabs it, moving back to sit beside Clint who keeps his eyes closed, lifting his head when she directs him to and giving a sigh of pleasure when she starts to wash his hair.
She doesn't speak again, instead she finishes with his hair and moves on to washing every inch of him. There is no part of him now that's been touched by someone, or something else. He's clean.
Clint is hers, he's always been hers, and the ritual of bathing him when he comes home is just one of the ways she shows it. When he's clean and starting to doze from the effect of the painkillers, Laura taps his shoulder twice and helps him up and out of the tub.
She pulls the plug and grabs a towel from where it's been laying over the register, drying her husband off with the heated towel. How do you feel?
Much better. Thank you.
Laura smiles up at her husband and takes his hand, leading him to the bedroom where a fresh change of pyjamas have been laid out. Get dressed. I need to make the kids a snack and I'll be back up to tuck you in.
Yes ma'am. Clint's fingers flash through the words and he tilts his head down automatically for a kiss. Laura gives him a blinding smile and a kiss and slips out the bedroom door while Clint dresses and putters around the room, taking a moment to orient himself with the familiarity of home while he waits.
Ten quiet minutes pass and the lights in the hallway flash three times, letting him know she's coming into the bedroom and Clint finishes looking over Laura's collection of old perfume bottles, moving to greet her in the doorway with a sleepy smile. Let's get you into bed, sweetheart.
You could at least buy me a drink. Clint signs and Laura's index finger brushes over her cheek in an upward motion, signing her laughter. She holds out her hand and Clint takes it, giving them a squeeze. Laura smiles up at him, dimples flashing in her cheeks and she lifts his hand, kissing over his fingers before leading him to bed.
She turns the sheets down and fluffs his pillow before Clint lays down, stretching out in between the cool, fresh smelling sheets.
Laura leans down to kiss his forehead, then his eyes, then his mouth. Clint lifts a hand to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss until she tape a hand on his chest and pulls away. Cheeky.
That's why you love me. Laura shakes her head, grinning at him and kisses his forehead again, leaving him to sleep while she finishes up with the kids home schooling and the household chores that need to be done.
And Clint. Clint sleeps. Not even waking when Laura finally comes to bed, though he does roll over to cuddle. Laura presses a kiss to the back of his neck, wrapping an arm around his chest.
Her husband. The little spoon.