The Proposition

Waking Up (20)

What woke Clint up was the discomforting burning sensation on his chest. His leg was already feeling the burn as well. But his chest was more sensitive to this type of thing, especially since more injuries were on his chest than on his leg. His eyes slowly clenched open and closed, his body moving faster than his mind.

'Heya, relax buddy.' Tony soothed when he saw Clint open his eyes and groan when he applied the antibiotic cream to the stab wound on his bare chest.

'Don't.' Clint mumbled wincing and the speech causing the mask to fog momentarily. Using his right hand he gripped at Tony's wrist to move it away. From the sensitive area.

'That, burns.' He said as he pushed Tonys hand off weakly and his arm fell limply back to his side via his chest and sliding back into position where he gripped at the covers.

The bed and the covers were softer and more familiar to the one he was familiar with being in. It was probably softer because of the extra familiarity of it. The touch of it and the feeling of sinking into the pillows and mattress comforting. His eyes screwed as he cleared the sleep dust from his eyes and looked round the room.

It was their room. The double he and Natasha shared at their home. His eyebrows scrunched very slightly as he retraced his steps, realising he was at home and wondering how he'd got there, and why he had this stupid mask on his face.

With his eyes still half shut he breathed in deeply through the mask, the air was cleaner and weird, a horse cough erupting from his bruised chest from the cold shock in his throat.

He started to lift up his hands to cover his mouth and remove the mask when something moved on the bed, the coughing subsided with a few huffs, and, unfazed by the sudden unexpected movement he looked down and at Natasha. Sleeping in her seat, her head on the bed and her hand entwined with his.

'Stay still, it'll only get worse if you move.' Tony advised as he started to reach for her more. 'You shouldn't even be awake at the moment,' Tony looked at his silver Rolex, rolling his wrist to shift his sleeve. 'Your not supposed to be up for another 3 hours or so.' He stated.

Clint, still having been half asleep, looked up and saw Tony.

'Stark??' He asked, having realised that Tony was there.

'Hey Barton.' Tony chirped back. Trying to be cheerful and ignoring the fact Clint hadn't taken very much on board.

Clint's view redirected itself to look at Natasha. Properly taking in everything when he felt his wrist throb.

The sedatives Tony had just given him almost immediately effective and virtually unknown to Clint. He just stared at Natasha, too tired to smile.

His mind went numb and his thoughts got muddled, still retracing his steps, being in their house and Natasha asleep eventually lead to the ring.

'T-tony.' He mumbled desperately, the seriousness of the situation seeming more important than his current condition. His head tensing and jerking up while his right hand hung freely in the air just above the cover, like he was just about to turn on his left side.

'Hey I'm here, calm down.' Tony leant over him slightly, pushing him back down and re buttoning Clint's shirt since he was done putting on the anti in-fectants.

'Did,' he paused to focus, his vision a little fuzzy. 'Did anyone find it??' His voice started wondering off towards the end, his neck tensing again and he started blinking, quite rapidly.

'Find what??' Tony inquired, confused.

Clint tried to fight off the anaesthetic again. Clearing his throat and screwing his eyes to try get them to go into focus when he opened them. Lifting his right hand up and moving it to cross his stomach.