My Weakness

The first thing she was aware of was the pain. She hurt everywhere, there was nowhere on her that wasn't in terrible, screaming pain. The second was the smell, she was clearly in some kind of hospital. The third was that she was hearing German and English mingled all around her. She put these three things together.

She didn't even open her eyes, she had a feeling it would hurt. "I am in pain. Please help me."

"Hey, you. You're awake."

A gentle hand took hers and she risked opening her eyes. Only one would open, and Steve sat there, smiling at her and holding her hand.

"You're gonna be okay, Nat."

"Where am I? What's wrong with me? Where's Clint?"

"Hang on, one thing at a time. What did you say just now, in German?”

"'I am in pain, please help me.'"

Steve pressed the call button and informed the nurse that she was awake and in pain. The nurse said she was on her way.

"Where am I?"

"Hamburg, at the military hospital. Tony and I pulled strings."

"How long have I been here?"

"This is the eighth day."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well, you were severely beaten. Very severely beaten. What happened to you would have killed almost anyone else a couple of times over. As for your specific condition," he wouldn't meet her gaze, "there's a lot of things. But you are going to be ok."

"How did I get here?"

"Hawkeye got suspicious when you didn't call him back right away. We started looking for you immediately. Tony pulled every string he could find and we tracked you to Russia, but didn't get there in time. We found you right after they dumped you, the other chopper tracked them back to their hideout. They're all dead, Nat."

The nurse came in and took Natasha's vital signs, then added a tiny bottle to her IV. Natasha thanked her profusely in German, then waited until she was gone.

She laid her head back on her pillow, feeling the blessed relief of the drugs. "Where's Clint? Why isn't he here? He can't be happy that you're here instead of him."

Steve smiled a small smile. “He and I have made peace, of a sort. And, well, Clint...he got a little out of hand." Natasha just looked at him. "When we realized you were missing, he was out of his mind with worry. He wasn't easy to deal with, let’s just say. He got unruly. When we tracked you to Russia, well… we had to instruct security not to let him out of the building and hide his weapons. Then when we found you injured and so close to death..." he gave a small smile "Thor and Tony had to contain him. Bruce had to leave the area, it was too volatile."

Natasha just stared. He loved her that much? "But how did you get here? Why did he not kill you with his bare hands?"

"We decided that a couple of us were going out to search and then one of us was coming to stand guard over you. We had made it clear that it wasn't going to be him because he was too broken up and we were afraid he wouldn't be able to think objectively on the search and then let you heal. We were leaning towards Tony and Thor. Clint actually insisted that it be me and Sam."

Natasha was agog. "He did?"

"Yes. He said that of all people, Captain America would be the best person to get things done on a military base. And he was right, everything I've asked for you has been done. Almost all of it at his request."

She pondered for a minute. "When can I go home?"

"As soon as you can sit in a wheelchair, Tony is sending a private jet with fancy doctors to take us home."

"Call Hawkeye and tell him I'm on the way home. Bring me a wheelchair.”

She fell back into unconsciousness. It took another day before she was able to get into the wheelchair.

~*~

They were all sitting in Tony's office, anxious for the helicopter to land after picking up Natasha and Cap from LaGuardia. Clint was pacing, an absolute wreck. He had finally slept a few hours the night before after hearing from Cap that she had been awake, talking, and was ready to come home. Knowing that she was safe had calmed him a little. Just a little. Now that she was in the air and on the way home, he was a wreck again. The sleep, shower and shave he’d had seemed to have done nothing, really after an hour of intense worry when he woke up. He had just gone back to looking like he was a dead man, waiting for a grave, except now he had shaven.

Tony's phone rang, and everyone jumped. He answered it.

"Yeah."

"Tony. We're seven miles out and have a problem. You gotta clear everyone out, especially Hawkeye."

"Why?"

"The docs say she's had a pulmonary embolism. They say they can fix it, but they have to get her to medical immediately. They're working on her now, and it looks scary. Just get him out of there."

"You got it.” He hung up. "Folks, we gotta make way for the medical team. Nat has to go to medical to be cleared before she can go home."

Clint snarled, "Fuck that. Medical can come to her. She's coming home with me."

The chopper whirled closer and closer. "Trust me on this one, big man."

"No."

The helicopter got louder and louder. "Thor, grab him."

Thor obeyed, being kicked and punched for his efforts, withstanding all of them. Tony spoke up, "Hawkeye, I'm begging you to just come with us, please."

Thor was dragging him, but too late. The medical team was unloading Natasha on a stretcher, a blue bag to her face, blowing air into her mouth and nose. Clint went limp. Pepper and Jane started crying. "She's going to be okay, Clint, but we have to go."

The medical team went running by, shouting directions and working on Natasha. Thor released Clint as he spotted Cap trailing behind, walking up to his friends. Clint looked to him hopefully, and Steve just shook his head. "They're doing all they can, Hawk."

Clint sagged against Thor. "Oh, God. We were getting married again. Oh, God no…." Glances were exchanged, but no one said anything.  

Thor and Tony each put an arm around Clint and led him away.

~*~

It was morning when she awoke for the second time, smelling hospital smells. This time, she heard English, and her pain was not as bad. She tried to open her eyes, and they both opened this time, although one only opened a slit. Yes, this was a hospital, but this one was more familiar. She had been here before. She looked around, trying to get her bearings, searching for the call button, and felt something holding down her hand. The one hand that felt free. One was encased. One was…what is that?

She looked down and moved her hand at the same time, but her hand wouldn't move. She looked stupidly and realized that it was interlaced with another hand. She followed that arm all the way up to the sleeping blond head that had fallen over to one shoulder.

"Clint."

She was hoarse and her voice barely came out at all. She wondered how sick she must have been to not have her voice anymore.

"Clint."

Still no motion from him. He had a couple days' worth of beard and looked like hell. She wanted to see his eyes. God, she wanted to see his eyes.

"Clint." She tried tugging his hand with all of her strength while she said his name as loud as she could manage. She barely nudged him, and barely made a sound.

He startled awake, looking around dazedly. Then he looked down at her and he shot to his feet, bending over her, barely grazing her face with his fingertips, kissing her forehead where it seemed less bruised.

“Oh, Natasha, oh God, thank God, you’re awake. You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart."

"I just wanted to wake you up."

"That's not what I meant."

"Am I ok?"

"You will be."

"What happened?"

"Pulmonary embolism. Blood clot to the lungs. We flew you too soon. Thank Christ Tony had all those doctors on the plane, and that you were enhanced as a kid. Most people die from those things."

"I wanna go home."

"Normally I'd bust you out, but not this time, sweetheart. I almost lost you twice in two weeks. You're staying in."

"Asshole."

"I love you so damn much, Nat."

"I love you."

"Sleep. The doctor will be in soon and we'll talk."

"Ok."

He kissed her on the forehead, and she fell back into a soft, safe sleep.

~*~

Natasha woke up more and more for longer and longer periods over the next 24 hours, and Clint never left her bedside. Everyone came to see her, and she tried to talk. It tired her out, and Clint shooed them away. She cried when Tony came, trying to find the words to thank him and failing.

According to the doctors who came in, she was healing amazingly quick - probably due to her enhancements. But they were tight-lipped about what exactly her injuries were, saying that her attending physician would explain all of that. Clint finally got impatient and demanded that the attending physician come in, and when he didn't come fast enough, Clint called Tony to have him shake the cage.

Clint was dozing in the shitty reclining chair the Tower clinic provided and half watching some god-awful show Natasha had shown interest in, some documentary about outer space that was boring him out of his tits. He hated shit like this, but she loved it. So he was willing to sit beside her for a marathon of "How The Universe Works," hold her hand, and learn about the life and death cycles of stars. If it made her happy, he'd deal with it. He didn't know why she watched this shit, though, she was so damn smart, she probably already knew most of this. But he loved how curious she was. God, he just loved her.

Natasha had fallen asleep and Clint was shooting longing glances at the remote when the attending physician came in, looking down at an iPad that served as Natasha's chart.

"So, Ms. Romanov! How are we -"

Clint shushed him violently. "She's sleeping."

The doctor was only mildly quieter. "I'm Dr. Horgan. I'm here to talk to her about her injuries and condition, as requested."

Clint nodded. "Gimme a sec." He stood and leaned over her, kissing her on the forehead. He whispered, "Hey, sweetheart? The doctor's here. You wanna wake up and talk to him?"

"Yeah, sit me up some more."

Clint adjusted her bed and sat beside her, holding her non-cast hand gently.

"Ms. Romanov, I'm Dr. Horgan, and I'm in charge of your case. I'm here to talk to you about your injuries and condition, but due to HIPPAA laws and the sensitive nature, I can't talk in front of Mr. Barton -"

Clint didn't have time to open his mouth. "He stays."

"But..."

"He stays. Period."

Dr. Horgan nodded. "Very well. When you arrived in Hamburg, you were suffering from numerous fractures and bruised internal organs. You had some minor internal bleeding. It's my understanding that in your youth, you were given some sort of enhancements?"

"Yes."

"Well, it appears that two of the effects of those enhancements is that they made your body incredibly hardy and help you to heal incredibly quickly. Frankly, Ms. Romanov, the beating you took should have killed you. So should the embolism. Fortunately, you have a very strong constitution and there were doctors right on hand for just that sort of thing."

Clint squeezed her hand gently.

"And then there was the peculiarity we found in your tox screen, coupled with the glass between your toes." Natasha squirmed a bit. "When we tested the chemical residue that was leftover on your toes, we were quite surprised, to say the least." She looked guilty.

Clint looked back and forth between the two. "What are you talking about?"

"Ms. Romanov?"

"There is a serum I know about through S.H.I.E.L.D. It slows the heartbeat and breathing down so much that you appear dead, but you're not. I took a tiny amount and hid it on my person in case I ever needed to play dead. It seemed prudent in certain situations - given the circumstances at S.H.I.E.L.D. I had it under the pads of my toes in a glass vial so that if I squeezed it and broke it, the glass would cut my toes and a little of the serum would enter my bloodstream. Just a little.”

Clint just stared at her, the doctor looked at her almost fondly. "It is a very lucky thing that you stole that serum, and that you cracked that vial when you did. Had you taken much more of a beating, you would not have survived. Nor would your baby."