21 Days [A Hawkeye/ Clint Barton fic] [HEAVY EDITING]

Doctor's Disorder

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Clinton Francis Barton knew two things:

He could not move due to the heavy blanket draped over his shoulders.

He had no idea what medical gibberish Ashlocke was speaking about with the two nurses now walking beside his wheelchair.

The male nurse wore a plain maroon scrub top with matching pants, while the female nurse wore a scrub shirt with dogs all over it and black pants. Clint absolutely loved dogs. His fellow SHIELD agents would always send him in first if there was a dog in their location because they would be afraid about getting attacked.

Everything around him blurred in and out of focus as they wheeled him into an elevator and took him back up to the fifth floor. While Clint, the two nurses, the security guard, and Ashlocke were in the dimly lit elevator, the archer felt one of the nurses adjust the heavy grey blanket by draping the ends over his shoulders so they would fall in his lap.

The fuzziness wouldn't wear away. Once the elevator signal 'dinged' and the metal doors slid open, the male nurse took over pushing the wheelchair.

Natasha scolded him when they arrived in the archer's hospital room, saying how crazy and stupid he was for running off. She reminded him of SHIELD's secure promise of not letting anything happen to him on the operating table.

Well, that promise was made before they lost him on the table three times...

Not to forget that they had tried to kill him on a SHIELD operating table before.

"He tried to escape and threw a fit when security cut off his exit route...and I don't think he's going to keep calm. The drip he had been attached to for a few weeks worked most of the euthanasia serum out of him, but I don't know how much is left. If he gets excited, whatever's left could have negative effects...if that makes any sense."

"Why can't my regular doctor see me?" The archer quietly complained as he felt like sinking down into his wheelchair.

"Doctor Brady has enough on her hands already. She's assisting Doctor Carlson with an operation on Agent Davenport. Besides...Lincoln, Simmons, and Bruce offered to look after you ," Natasha answered as she walked over to Clint and knelt down so they could see eye to eye. We need to get him cleaned up..."

Ashlocke motioned for Cody and Sara, the two assisting nurses, to take Clint to get cleaned up and back in standard patient scrubs. Natasha got between the nurses and Clint once she noticed how they seemed to make him uncomfortable. "Clint trusts me; I'll do it."

"Fine, here." The doctor handed over a small plastic bottle containing the antiseptic soap. "Don't let him freak out over the treatment SHIELD's lab technicians and I have worked on since dawn. It won't exactly be a painless process, but we have to give it to him before we take him back for surgery..."

"Nat..." Clint coughed up more blood, letting it dribble from his lip and onto his grey shirt.

As Natasha helped Clint stand up, he made a sharp and pained sound in the back of his throat. He remained quiet, but the Russian assassin looked up to see a hurt expression on the archer's face. "You're okay, I've got you, Barton..."

That was the same time Clint doubled over and coughed up more blood on the tiled surface beneath him. The archer started to panic, but his friend just shushed him as she pulled him away from the small mess and guided him into the hospital room's bathroom. She sat him down on the shower floor, believing he was much heavier now because of his fatigue.