Fears of the Widow

Gone

The slow steady beeps escalated, pounded in Clint's head, an emptiness filling him. There was something wrong. Fog covered his brain, thick and soupy, his eyelids were sticky and heavy, they ached as he tried to pull them open. Thick blurry images took up his vision as he awoke, but he did see someone moving around. Natasha?

He let out a low groan, the pain in his chest was suddenly noticeable, as he blinked back the foggy images.

"Agent Barton?" A woman's voice asked. He turned towards the moving person, and rubbed his eyes as everything came into focus.

He let out a soft grunt, "Nat?"

"Who?" The lady turned around. It was a nurse... Not Natasha. The young girl approached him with a clipboard, "I'll go get a doctor and Fury. They've been waiting to see you."

The girl disappeared, and Clint looked around the hospital room. Where on earth was he? And where was everyone.... And what had happened? The last thing he remembered was Zarcov and escaping... Then Natasha and Steve. They were there... And then... And then.... Nothing.

Suddenly Fury burst through the doors followed by a doctor. "You're awake."

"Well my eyes are open... And I'm self aware... So yea I'd say I'm awake," Clint snapped.

The doctor been checking his vitals, "how do you feel?"

"Sore... Really sore. My chest hurts a lot!" Clint groaned.

The doctor nodded, "well that's what a bullet will do to a man."

Clint suddenly sat up, "a bullet? I was shot?" He didn't remember that. He didn't remember getting shot. What the heck happened? He suddenly pulled the hospital sheet down to reveal a large bandage around his abdomen and upper chest.

Fury circled the bed, "you don't remember?" He was wearing his usual black... Black... And more black. Clint took no interest, but instead touched the bandage around his chest.

"I remember the factory... I remember... Natasha..."

Fury frowned, "but you don't remember anything after that?"

Clint grimaced as the doctor inserted a pain medication into his IV. The burst of fluids pumping through his veins. "I don't remember anything after Captain Rogers and Natasha showed up..."

"Okay, it could be the trauma," they doctor spoke up, "but that doesn't change my orders. No activities, no missions, nothing for two months. Okay?"

So then Natasha will be partners with Steve... Clint's blood boiled, and he objected, "no. That won't be a problem. I can't leave my partner."

Fury objected, "you don't need to worry about that. You are going to rest for two months or more if you don't cooperate."

"Fury," Clint gritted his teeth, "don't do this. Please, don't put her with Rogers. I can do it. I can still go on ops. I'll be fine."

"Clint."

"I'll be fine!" Clint growled.

Fury put his hand up, "she's gone, Barton."

"What?" Clint snapped, "gone?" Gone how? Gone dead? Gone mission? Gone... Ran away?

"No, I won't tell you where. She's doing her thing. It's a solo mission," Fury cracked his knuckles, "don't try anything. Clint, she's just fine. Rest up."

Clint growled, "what mission?"

"I can't tell you. It's confidential," Fury headed for the door.

Clint suddenly screamed, "why did you send her? If it's something I did, I'm sorry! Damnit, send me!"

"I didn't send her," fury fired back.

"Then who did?" Clint snapped.

"She did."