Whumptober 2023 ~ Marvel Edition

'I Don't Feel So Good.' - Clint

Day 13:

"It comes and goes like the strength in your bones."
Cold Compress | Infection | "I don't feel so good."

~~~

Though his wound was just to the left of Clint's navel, his entire abdomen ached something fierce.

He figured it wasn't helping that the area surrounding his still raw cut was covered in bruises, but still he grew more frustrated by the minute at his inability to move. The only parts of his body that he could move without any pain were his head, neck, anything below the kneecaps, and his arms, if he was careful not to raise them up too high. Occasionally he would forget his pain, because it was fairly dull if he sat completely still, and turn to grab the remote or absent-mindedly adjust himself on the couch while he watched the television, and he would get a quite painful reminder of his predicament.

Clint had been sitting on the couch with an ice pack to his abdomen for the last couple of hours, and it had helped a little, but the coldness of the pack was starting to go away. Laura had been kind enough to switch out the packs when needed, and Clint was more thankful than she could know. He tried to downplay the extent of his injuries to keep her from worrying, but his wife was smart; Laura knew exactly how much pain he was in, and did her best to care for him as needed.

Knowing that it had been a while since his last pack change, Laura went into the freezer, grabbed another one off of one of the shelves, and walked over to the couch in the living room.

"Here," she said, holding out the new one for him to take.

Clint offered a small smile. "Thank you."

Laura smiled back as they switched packs and Clint rested the new one on his abdomen and winced at the slight movement and sudden coldness against his stomach. It did hurt, but it also felt oddly good. Instead of responding, Laura knelt down, ran her fingers through her husband's hair, and placed a gentle kiss onto his forehead, which Clint melted into. When Laura pulled away, she frowned.

"You're warm," she noticed.

"Am I?" Clint asked. Sure, he hadn't been feeling good, but warm?

Laura nodded thoughtfully. "Can I see it?"

Clint raised a brow. "My wound?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You know why," Laura said. "If you're warm, that means you might have a fever, and you having a fever right now probably means it's infected. So please let me look."

Clint let out a soft breath and nodded, lifting up his shirt to remove his bandage. Laura did most of the work, as to let Clint continue resting, but when the gauze pad finally came off and she saw the underneath, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, unable to contain her shock.

"What?" Clint's gaze immediately snapped down to his abdomen, and his own eyes widened. The diagonal gash across his abs that had been neatly stitched together was bright red, swollen, and there was also definitely some puss leaking out of it.

"Holy..." he muttered.

"All right, that's it; I'm taking you to the ER," Laura said. She'd seen enough injury in her days to know that this needed to get treated by a professional, and fast.

Clint's first instinct was to disagree because he was so used to downplaying his injuries, especially when he was around his kids, but he knew that going in was the right call, so he didn't fight it. Wait, the kids-

"What about the kids?" Clint called to his wife, who had gone around the corner to grab a few things. The shouting caused his side to flare up again, but he bit his cheek and did his best to ignore the pain.

"I'll call Mrs. Wells and see if she's home; I'm sure she'd be willing to swing by and keep an eye on them while we're gone." Their neighbor, yes; that was perfect. "Do you think you can make it to the door by yourself or do you need my help?"

"I think I can do it by myself. I might need help getting my shoes, though."

"Don't push yourself, Clint. Wait for me if you need me," Laura said, shooting him a glare that warned him not to try anything he might later regret.

"I won't," Clint promised.

Thankfully, sitting up straight was easier than he thought it would be. Getting onto his feet, now that was a little harder. Maybe his pain tolerance was higher than he thought it was, because he really didn't think he should have been able to get up as quickly as he did, but either way, he was on his feet within twenty seconds.

Clint began shuffling towards the front door, and by the time he'd made it about three fourths of the way there, his vision blurred slightly and his head started to spin, so he took a break and leaned up against the wall.

"Honey? Are you okay?" he heard Laura's voice. Was she done calling the neighbor already?

"I don't feel so good," Clint admitted, clutching his abdomen gently as a drop of sweat slid down the side of his face.

The last thing Clint remembered was a concerned Laura jogging towards him before his body went numb and everything turned black.